Mr Darcy Loves Again
by R. Grace
Summary: Rated Mature for eventual sexual content. A tale of hope, romance, and unexpected attraction.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** This plot bunny originally freaked me out when it reared its ugly head, but it wouldn't leave me alone unless I played with it. Here is the result!

**Blurb: **George Darcy has been a widower for twenty-eight long years. The deaths of his wife and newborn son have left him lonely and content to be so. A chance meeting with a spirited young lady will change his life forever.

**A/N 2: **In more direct terms, Elizabeth falls in love with the Mr. Darcy who would have been our Mr. Darcy's father. Weird, right? Trust me, it's better than it sounds. Hey, Collin Firth is still a fine-looking man, right? ;)

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><p>Mr. George Thomas Darcy was a terribly lonely man, and had been for so long that he had completely forgotten what it had been like to <em>not<em> feel alone in the world. Eight and twenty years. Eight and twenty long, empty years had passed since his sweet, young Anne had been taken from him while trying to give life to his infant son, who had also been taken from him that fateful day. Though he was yet a young man when he was so cruelly thrust into widowhood, he had never felt the slightest inclination to remarry. Yes, he was lonely. Yes, he was starved of love and affection. Yes, he desired female companionship. However, he hadn't, in eight and twenty long years, found a woman whose permanent company he desired.

That is, until the day he met Elizabeth Bennet.

She was so young, so full of life, that falling head over heels in love with her was as easy and natural as breathing. Somehow, when in a rut of boredom and exasperation Darcy had finally accepted the long-extended invitation to visit his late wife's widowed sister and her sickly daughter at Rosings Park, the woman who would breathe life into his drab existence had come strolling into his path one clear April morning.

Darcy had tipped his beaver hat to the etherial creature, acknowledging her presence as much as he was able without an introduction. She had smiled and nodded her pretty head in return, her glossy curls bouncing charmingly around her lovely face with each movement. It was with great effort that Darcy gently spurred his horse onward, away from the enchanting smile directed his way. Darcy didn't have long to wait for an introduction to the lady, as the party from the parsonage was invited to dine at Rosings that very evening.

He had been surprised to discover that his sister-in-law's rather obsequious parson could be in any way related to such a charming, well-spoken young lady as Miss Elizabeth proved to be. She had served as a source of endless amusement for Darcy during dinner. Each obtrusive and overbearing question and remark leveled at her by Lady Catherine was answered with an uncommon degree of wit and intelligence, tempered with perfect grace and poise.

When the party retired to the drawing room after dinner, Darcy discovered that he was not the only male member of the party to take interest in Miss Elizabeth's lively manners and pleasing countenance. His nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had made it his personal charge to remain close to the young lady throughout the evening, making friendly conversation and turning the pages for her while she played the pianoforte at Lady Catherine's insistence. Though Elizabeth was, by no means, a proficient, she played with great feeling and expression that rendered Darcy, and his nephew, quite captivated throughout her performance.

Darcy had watched silently as Richard had helped Miss Elizabeth on with her wrap as the parsonage party had made ready to depart later that evening, thinking that, had he his nephew's youth and zest for life, he would make it his task to secure the affections of such a bright, rare gem of a girl that was Miss Elizabeth. He sighed deeply at the thought. His youth had long been wasted in pain and regret. He was now approaching his fifty-third year, and was sure that he was now a conformed widower, and would be until his final day.

The next morning, fate once again saw fit to bring Elizabeth across his path as they were both out enjoying their morning constitutionals. Now that they had been formally introduced, Darcy saw no reason to forgo the pleasure of her enlivening company, and offered her his arm. She happily accepted, and, thus, began a ritual of morning walks in each other's amiable company that would add greatly to the enjoyment of his stay. They discussed many topics, and discovered that they had much in common. They shared much of the same taste in books, much to Darcy's surprise and pleasure. Elizabeth was well-versed in history, philosophy, and even many of the critical current events and happenings of the day. She was, he was certain, the most intelligent woman he had ever encountered, as well as the most attractive.

Though Elizabeth's figure wasn't fashionable, he found much to admire in her graceful curves. Her eyes sparkled with wit and vivaciousness, and her creamy skin appeared as soft as spun silk. Darcy was surprised, and a little dismayed, to find himself achingly aroused whenever he was in Miss Elizabeth's presence. He fought to keep his wayward thoughts in check, to think of her as the daughter he never had; but all efforts in this direction proved in vain. He found himself unable to sleep at nights, his member more aroused than it had been in years, throbbing, aching, and begging for relief. It had been years since he had taken himself in hand for such respite, but the advent of Miss Elizabeth's entrance into his life made it suddenly necessary.

After nearly a month in company with Elizabeth at Rosings, Darcy began to realize that his feelings for her transcended anything he had ever experienced. He had fallen deeply in love with her, a young woman of only twenty years from a country gentleman's family somewhere in the south. If only he were younger, then he could, perhaps, dream of making this angelic creature his; but his youth had been spent long ago. He could never burden such a deserving young woman with a husband over twice her age, even if she could find it in her kind heart to accept him. She deserved better.

So, it was with a heavy heart that Darcy boarded his fine carriage and headed home to Pemberley. As his eyes beheld the familiar sight of his ancestral home rising up from the valley floor, he couldn't banish the wish that he could bring Elizabeth here with him as his wife. In the long months to come, he would imagine her everywhere - across the dinner table, seated next to him in the parlor, tiptoeing into his study to interrupt his work with tender kisses, and, most frequently of all, in his bed and in his arms each long and lonely night. Despite the persistent yearning of his heart, he knew that such a beautiful dream could never be realized. One day some young, charming gentleman would discover the treasure that was Elizabeth Bennet, and she would go on to have a family and a long, happy life with someone worthy of her love and affection. Though the thought of her in another man's arms cut Darcy to the core, he truly wished Elizabeth every happiness that she unquestionably deserved.

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><p>Elizabeth smiled happily as she took in the wild beauty of the Derbyshire countryside from the carriage window.<p>

"_So this is where Mr. Darcy lives", _she thought with a longing sigh.

Nearly four months had passed since she had met the handsome gentleman from Derbyshire, and, despite the passage of time, he had never been far from her thoughts. Even now she could perfectly recall his face and the cut of his fine, imposing figure that she had come to admire above any other. It had all started one morning at Rosings when he had happened across her path. She had smiled genuinely at the handsome stranger, who tipped his hat gallantly as he passed.

Elizabeth was a lady, but she had eyes that recognized a fine-looking man when they beheld one, and Mr. Darcy was certainly a fine-looking man. She could not help but spare an appreciative glance at the strong thighs that gripped the flanks of his horse as past her. Surely riding boots and buckskin breeches had never served a man so well. Elizabeth had the grace to blush at her scandalous thoughts.

That night at dinner, she was able to observe the intriguing stranger more closely. By the end of the night, she was convinced that he was the handsomest man she had ever beheld, even surpassing his dashing nephew, the Colonel, despite being twenty years his senior. Mr. Darcy, as she learned he was called, had very lovely dark eyes framed by thick lashes, fine, high cheekbones, and a pleasing mouth. His head was covered with thick, dark curls which only showed smatterings of grey around the temples. She was sure he must be nearly her father's age, though he appeared perhaps a bit younger than he was, probably due to frequent exercise and a healthy diet. Most men, it seemed to Elizabeth, developed quite a prodigious belly by the time they reached forty. Mr. Darcy, however, seemed as vigorous and trim as his young nephew.

Though Mr. Darcy had been quiet and enigmatic at dinner, when he happened, once again, across her path, - on foot this time - Elizabeth was pleased to discover that he actually had quite a bit to say when discussing books, history, or politics. She enjoyed his conversation greatly, and found great delight in being the sole object of such a man's exclusive attention for several minutes a day. She admired his intelligence and dry wit, as well as his noble baring and physical beauty. His deep baritone always sounded pleasing in her ears. She listened with rapt attention even when he spoke of the weather and the state of the roads.

Several weeks into his visit, Elizabeth began to realize that her heart was very much in danger from Mr. Darcy. She hardly knew whether to laugh or weep at the thought. If anyone had told her that she would fall in love with a man nearly her father's age she would have laughed heartily at the idea, but here she was, pining for his presence like a love-struck mooncalf! Her levity would always wane, however, at the thought that she would always appear a near child in his eyes. Surely such a man of the world would never see her as desirable in the way she did him. He was probably just bored of his relatives' insipid company, and she was his only alternative.

But, there were times when she would see something in his eyes when he would look on her, and sometimes there was a particular softness in his voice that spoke of a special regard and tenderness. Elizabeth had almost allowed herself to hope by the time she received news that Mr. Darcy had departed Kent for Derbyshire. Her heart sank into her boots at the realization that the only man she could ever love was gone, never to be seen again.

Not being of a nature typically inclined towards melancholy, Elizabeth indulged her heartache for only a few days, then pushed her feelings for the man from Derbyshire into a remote corner of her heart reserved for impossible dreams and useless hopes. Her feelings for Mr. Darcy were a girlish whim, nothing more. Surely she would soon be able to look back on their conversations in Kent as very pleasant memories without feeling this terrible heaviness around her heart.

Despite Elizabeth's best efforts to forget Mr. Darcy, he was always in her thoughts. She found herself laying awake at night thinking of him, and wondering, childishly, if he ever thought of her. The days dragged into weeks, the weeks into months. The spring had passed on into full-blown summer, and, yet, Elizabeth still found herself longing for Mr. Darcy's presence at every turn. She was always quick to chastise herself for such thoughts, knowing that they were all in vain. He didn't care for her, and she would never see him again.

Her sprits were lifted by an invitation to travel north with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner towards the end of the summer. The original plan was to tour the Lake District, but plans had altered in such a way as to take them into Derbyshire, near a fine estate with an eerily familiar name.

Elizabeth looked upon the impending visit to Pemberley with a mix of anticipation, curiosity, and trepidation. She knew without a doubt that this was the home Mr. Darcy had spoken so fondly of to her back in Kent. Perhaps she would be able to find a measure of ease for her wounded heart by visiting his home, a place more connected with him than any other. At the very least, seeing the estate would serve as a reminder of just how foolish any hope that such a man could ever care for the likes of her was.

When Pemberley House came into view, Elizabeth was awestruck. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful home she had ever beheld. It was fine without being overly ornate or ostentatious. The design seemed to fit perfectly into the setting, almost as if the house was as much a part of the natural landscape as the peaks in the distance and the glistening pond that lay before it. Elizabeth's heart raced faster the closer their carriage came to the house.

Her trepidation was lessened by the housekeeper's assurances that Mr. Darcy was not at home. Though a part of her longed to see him, her better judgement told her that it would only make it that much harder for her heart to recover if she did. Resolutely, she applied herself to attentively studying every aspect of his lovely home, adding every detail to her collection of memories associated with _him_.

Only once during her tour of Pemberley did Elizabeth's composure threaten to unravel, and that was when she beheld Mr. Darcy's portrait hanging in the gallery. The housekeeper informed them that it was painted when he was a young man of only three and twenty years of age. It was commissioned upon the occasion of his engagement to the Lady Anne. Elizabeth stared in awe at the visage depicted in vibrant color on the large canvas, reminded, once again, that Mr. Darcy was, without doubt, the handsomest gentleman of her acquaintance. The years had not diminished his appeal in the slightest. In fact, he appeared, in very painting, very much the same as he was in the spring. The housekeeper smiled knowingly at Elizabeth, and moved the tour forward.

Elizabeth welcomed her escape to the outdoors to clear her mind and settle her emotions. The sight of Mr. Darcy's dark, brooding eyes staring at her from the gallery wall had almost completely destroyed what semblance of equanimity she had gained in the past months. A quick amble over the lovely lawn and formal garden would surely lift her spirits.

She stepped around the high garden wall and found herself face to face with a startled, and slightly disheveled, Mr. Darcy.

TBC

Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and stay tuned for more. Before you go, here's a little snippet of what's to come:

_"Elizabeth, you make me feel young again," he whispered breathlessly in her ear._

_"You are not so very old, George," she replied with that arch smile he loved so much. "I find you...quite pleasing."_

_"You are an angel, Elizabeth."_

_Darcy crushed his lips against hers, which parted to allow him entrance to her sweet mouth. Elizabeth sighed and moved both her hands to his shoulders in an attempt to pull him onto the bed with her..._


	2. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **First of all, I'm so so so elated by the response to the first chapter! I knew when I started this project that, due to the age difference in the characters, it would be somewhat controversial. I expected mixed reviews, some less than stellar. However, I never expected the amount of enthusiastically positive feedback I've received! A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or subscribed! Your kind words make my day! _

_That said, I have good news and bad news. The good news: I have decided, based on the positive reaction to this story, to make it a good bit longer than was my original plan. I was going to make it a two or three-part little ditty, summarizing most of the interaction between the characters like I did in the first chapter. Now I plan to go into a bit more depth. Besides, I'm really enjoying playing with the new dynamic between D & E. Ok, now the bad news. You will all have to wait a bit longer for the continuation of the little teaser I gave you in the last chapter. I know I'm cruel for that, but good things come to those who wait! ;) _

_**A/N 2: **One last thing before I let you get on with the story. I realized some readers have reservations about Darcy's age. I admit, I did myself, at first. Just think about all the over-fifty celebs who are still very drool-worthy. Besides our beloved Colin Firth, there's George Clooney, Viggo Mortensen, Denis Quaid, and Harrison Ford (and he's almost 70!) to name a few. Believe it or not, Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, Robert Downey Jr., and John Stamos are all either newly turned the big five-o, or will within a couple years! My point is, Darcy's still a hottie! _

_Ok, no longer will I bore you with my little rant. Here's part 2! _

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><p>It was a hot day. Despite the heat, there was something liberating about riding at full gallop without giving a thought to the preservation of life and limb. Darcy relished the feeling of the summer air hitting him head on as he galloped, leaning forward in the saddle, the Derbyshire countryside flying by him in a green blur.<p>

When he neared the hilltop from which he could look down upon his home, he pulled his horse to a stop and took in the familiar prospect. Despite his long-standing love for his ancestral home, Darcy couldn't help but feel defeated as he looked down upon its imposing stone facade. He had left Pemberley for London but a month past, determined to eradicate Elizabeth Bennet from his thoughts. Though he arrived quite late in the season, he had attended what social events he had been invited to during his short stay. Having been a bit of a social recluse for nearly thirty years, Darcy's repeated appearances in public naturally raised a few eyebrows.

Darcy's goal in removing to town was, chiefly, to find a suitable woman with whom to satisfy his newly awakened desire for romance and companionship. He looked amongst the ton's widows and spinsters for a woman more suitably aged and, though many were beautiful and well-qualified to become his wife, there was not one who could hold his particular attention. No one was intelligent, witty, or lively enough for him. No woman's eyes were as fine, skin was as creamy white, or voice was as sweet as Elizabeth's.

Driven to near desperation by the persistent ache of unfulfilled desire, Darcy had very seriously considered visiting one of the houses of ill-repute his nephew and brother-in-law frequented. He had even gone so far as to order his carriage at nearly midnight before visions of Elizabeth's angelic smile stopped him in his tracks. The realization that no other woman would ever be enough to squelch this horrible longing washed over him like icy water. He resolved at that moment to quit the useless exercise in futility and return home to Pemberley.

The next morning, Darcy decided to forgo the carriage in favor of riding on horseback to Derbyshire. Two days in the saddle would be head-clearing, to be sure. At least while riding thinking, longing, despairing, and regretting were a great deal more difficult to do than while sitting idly in a quiet carriage. Now that he had arrived, albeit saddle sore and exhausted, Darcy was glad that he had ridden. His mind was almost free of turmoil, his aching heart just the slightest bit numbed.

Since he was no longer moving at top speed, Darcy began to feel the full oppression of the summer sun's heat that beat mercilessly down upon him. He quickly pulled off his coat and waistcoat, then tore at the choking silk of his cravat. After the offensive items had been secured in his saddle bag, Darcy opened a few buttons on his shirt and mopped his brow with his sleeves, which he promptly rolled up to his elbows. At last feeling tolerably unencumbered, he spurred his horse towards Pemberley House.

Darcy left his horse at the stables and took the scenic garden path towards the house. He was hot, sweaty, sore, and generally in need of a good bath. His mind was agreeably engaged in anticipation of said bath when, as he rounded the corner, his eyes lighted upon his heart's desire standing in his garden, appearing quite startled, but lovelier than ever. She wore a lightweight gown of ivory muslin, through which he could see the captivating outline of her hips and legs as the sun shone behind her. Over the dress, she wore a fitted yellow spencer that he had often seen her wear in Kent. Once again, he was struck by how well she looked in the vibrant color, as well as how advantageously her bosom appeared in the low neckline and snug fit of the garment.

For several moments he stood, dumbstruck, disbelieving what his eyes were showing him. _Elizabeth at Pemberley! Impossible! _Yet, it was so. Her sweet lavender scent filled his nose, bringing back each tender memory and hard-suppressed emotion of the past months. He hardly knew how to behave or what to think.

Elizabeth, for her part, was becoming increasingly embarrassed by the situation. Not only had she been caught on Mr. Darcy's property by the man himself, but, judging by his state of dishevel, she had clearly caught him unawares when he thought his privacy was secure. Through the open collar of his shirt she could see a patch of wiry black hair, as well as a hint of the hard planes and angles underneath. The slightly dampened lawn clung to his form, showing to advantage his narrow waist and broad shoulders. Even his breeches seemed to cling to his strong legs more than usual. In short, he was a veritable feast for the eyes, and Elizabeth couldn't pull hers away. _Now what was she to say to him? How was she to adequately explain her presence in his garden? _

Both fumbled, awkwardly, for the right thing to say until, finally gathering sufficient courage, both spoke at once. Naturally, each graciously demurred to the other, and another awkward silence ensued. Elizabeth was the first to break it.

"Mr. Darcy...I am on a northern tour with my Aunt and Uncle. We were...touring your lovely home."

Understanding washed over Darcy, jolting him into action. Elizabeth _was _there, she _was _real, not an apparition, and she had come to tour _his_ home! And, to think, if he hadn't decided to ride home on this particular day, at this particular time, he would have missed her! Whether it was luck of Providence that brought her back across his path that day, Darcy didn't question, but he certainly wasn't going to allow her to walk completely out of his life again. He would, at the very least, try to secure a few treasured hours in her company.

"Miss Elizabeth, what a delightful surprise," he began haltingly. "Does Pemberley meet with your approval?"

Elizabeth smiled genuinely, and replied, "Yes, it does. I would imagine that there are few who would not approve. It is a fine house, and the grounds are quite beautiful."

"Thank you," Darcy replied, his heart glowing with happiness at Elizabeth's praise of his home.

Silence prevailed for several more moments as each tried not to look at the other, and, of course, failed miserably. Recollecting his manners, Darcy petitioned Elizabeth for an introduction to the aunt and uncle who had brought her to Pemberley. Elizabeth was pleased that Darcy asked for an introduction to people so beneath his station, and credited it to his kind and thoughtful nature. However, she wasn't sure she wanted to present him to her relatives in such a state of undress, however fetching he appeared to her eyes.

"I'm sure my Aunt and Uncle would be more than happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy, but perhaps it would be best if you attired yourself a bit more formally first."

Darcy could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he recalled his half-dressed state. Despite his discomfort, he couldn't help feeling a bit smug as Elizabeth's eyes lingered on his nearly-exposed chest.

"Yes, you're quite right, my dear. If you will excuse me, I will make myself presentable and return to you shortly."

With that, Darcy bowed politely and, with a last longing look at Elizabeth, hurried in the direction of the house.

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><p>Elizabeth stood numbly watching Darcy's broad back as he strode away from her. His parting statement had left her in a state of blissful shock.<p>

"_He called me 'my dear'!" _

Her heart leapt at his unconscious use of the simple endearment, even though it was most likely prompted by paternal or platonic sentiments.

Abandoning her self-guided tour of the garden, Elizabeth went in search of her aunt and uncle, unsure what she was to say to them when she found them. Her thoughts and sensibilities were in an uproar. While she didn't want to blatantly snub Mr. Darcy by asking her aunt and uncle if they could leave Pemberley immediately, the idea certain had its appeal. The part of Elizabeth that was desperate for Darcy's presence warred with the part that wanted to guard itself from further hurt. It seemed that, every time she was in his presence, Elizabeth found herself more and more enamored. She was only hurting herself by staying.

When she caught up with her aunt and uncle, Elizabeth was still undecided as to what she should tell them. Her aunt immediately recognized her distress and became quite concerned. Elizabeth assured her aunt that it was nothing, and that she would soon be well. Thinking Elizabeth could do with a cup of tea, her relatives led her back into the house to ask the kindly housekeeper for a tray. Thus, Elizabeth's decision was made for her. She was to face Mr. Darcy once again.

The tea did help to settle Elizabeth's nerves some. By the time her cup was emptied, she was, once again, able to form coherent thoughts. She was glad that she hadn't allowed herself to give in to the selfish impulse to protect her own heart at the cost of offending Mr. Darcy by leaving without saying goodbye or making the promised introductions. She would never want to hurt him in any way, even if the hurt would be fleeting and superficial.

Accepting a second cup of tea from Mrs. Reynolds, Elizabeth allowed herself to look forward to soon being, once again, in the company of the man who owned her heart.

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><p>As soon as he was safely inside the house, Darcy nearly ran the distance to his dressing room, taking the stairs three at once, and barking orders for bath water to be sent up immediately.<p>

"I don't care if it isn't hot! And, please have Peters attend me at once!"

Both Mrs. Reynolds and Peters, Darcy's valet, were greatly surprised by their master's unusual behavior. Typically Mr. Darcy desired to soak in a steaming hot tub after returning from a long journey, and he _never_ took the stairs more than one at a time! Something alarming surely must have occurred to cause him to act so out of character.

While Peters remained flummoxed as he helped his master wash his hair and dress, Mrs. Reynolds began to put two and two together. She had noted the young visitor, Miss Elizabeth's, reaction to her master's portrait. At the time, she had assumed it was a romantic young lady's reaction to an exceptionally handsome face, but, in light of the master's strange behavior, Mrs. Reynolds began to wonder if there was something between the master and the young miss.

Mrs. Reynolds' suspicions were confirmed when, upon emerging from his dressing room, washed and properly attired, Mr. Darcy immediately inquired as to the whereabouts of the visiting young lady and her relatives. Suppressing a knowing smile, she directed him to the downstairs parlor.

Though he was more than a little anxious to see Elizabeth again, Darcy made no attempt to hurry downstairs to great his guests. Instead, he strode down the corridors at a measured pace, allowing himself some much-needed time to formulate a plan for buying himself more time with Elizabeth. His initial thought was to invite Elizabeth, along with her aunt and uncle, to dine with him the following night. While this idea was a pleasant one, he wished there was a way for him to see her earlier in the day. A picnic luncheon, perhaps? If they planned to spend some time in Derbyshire, perhaps he could invite them to stay at Pemberley? The idea certainly had its appeal, but Darcy wasn't sure Elizabeth's aunt and uncle would feel comfortable with the arrangement if they should ascertain his interest in their niece.

As he reached the stairs, Darcy decided that there was no possible way he would be able to formulate a hard and fast plan without knowing his visitors' travel plans and personalities. He could only walk into that parlor with his head held hight, make friendly conversation, and hope for the right opportunity to present itself.

_Oooh...what could happen now, I wonder? Should he invite them to stay at Pemberley? Will Elizabeth allow her insecurities to come between her and Darcy? Please review and let me know! _


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **As always, a big thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! I don't have time to reply to each review, but they are all read and appreciated. For those who asked about Wickham's part in this story, a portion of that will be hinted at in this chapter (cue ominous music). Also, look for a reference to a little nugget of wisdom previously made famous by our dear, sadly absent from this story, Charlotte.

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><p>Darcy climbed into his bed the night after Elizabeth's surprise visit with a happy smile on his face. He could hardly believe how vastly his outlook had changed in such a short span of time. He had gone from despair to hope in mere hours. Elizabeth's presence seemed to do that to him. She drew him from his shell, made him smile, made him laugh. She made him feel <em>alive<em> in a way he hadn't in more years than he cared to consider.

His meeting with her relatives had gone better than he had anticipated. They were kind, unpretentious people, fashionably dressed and well-spoken. If he didn't know better, he could easily have mistaken Mrs. Gardiner for a duchess, such was her graciousness and poise. He could see that this aunt had been a role model for Elizabeth, because he had often seen the same unassuming grace in her manor and comportment. There was no doubt that Elizabeth would do him credit as his wife, if he allowed himself to reconsider the possibility.

Darcy had lived in the world for three and fifty years. He knew that marriages between young women and much older men occurred, quite frequently, in fact. Such alliances were, invariably, marriages of convenience, based solely on what each could hope to gain from the other. Young ladies often sought wealth and security, as well as position in society. The men who would offer for these ladies often desired a pretty ornament for their arms and a warm body for their beds.

Elizabeth was so much more to him than merely a pretty face and pleasing figure. Yes, she had those things, but he admired her for her inner beauty much more than her outer charms. He supposed that his hesitancy to offer for Elizabeth stemmed more from his own insecurity than anything else. Elizabeth was lively and spirited. What if he couldn't keep pace with her? Would she grow to resent him? Would he lose her esteem, and squelch her spirit, as he grew old as she reached her prime?

Darcy had no wish to burden Elizabeth with a husband who couldn't satisfy her, in every way, but his heart was so irrevocably tied to hers that he knew he couldn't give her up again without making an effort. He would spend more time in her company, hopefully determining whether or not she could be happy with him as her husband. He knew he was still of robust health, and was a great deal more fit than most of his peers. If he could spend two days straight in the saddle, surely he could keep up with a lively young woman. In any case, the next week would help him in making a more informed determination.

Earlier that day, he had made a most fortuitous discovery. Mr. Gardiner was an avid fisherman. All it took to secure an entire week in Elizabeth's presence was an invitation for her uncle to fish in Pemberley's streams. He had also offered to personally escort the party on a tour of some of the nearby peaks, promising to show them Derbyshire's most striking prospects. Of course, he couldn't allow them to remain at the inn. They were to move their luggage to Pemberley the next day, and planned to remain for five nights before heading back to London.

Darcy hadn't missed Mrs. Gardiner's knowing look as he extended such a generous invitation to two people he had only just met and one whom he couldn't tear his eyes from. He had known it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth's relatives noted his interest in her. He wouldn't be at all surprised if, after the initial distraction of the much-anticipated fishing expedition wore off, Mr. Gardiner asked him to explain his intentions. Darcy was confident he could do so adequately, so he saw no reason to worry overmuch about the possibility. His attachment to Elizabeth would be impossible to hide, so it was useless to even attempt it.

With a blissful sigh, he turned his thoughts to Elizabeth. She had appeared so impossibly lovely that afternoon. The flawless skin of her cheeks appeared even rosier than usual. He noticed that even the tops of her sweet breasts blushed when he looked at her. She had smiled sweetly whenever his attention was directed her way, and her beautiful eyes had softened affectionately whenever they met his.

Hope began to blossom in his chest. If his presence affected Elizabeth even a tenth as much as her presence affected him, then perhaps he could make her happy. It was a small hope, but it was more than he had had in months.

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth, may I come in?"<p>

Elizabeth looked up from her packing and crossed the small room to open the door to her aunt.

"Aunt Madeline, come in. I was just packing."

Elizabeth stepped aside, allowing her aunt to cross into the room. Shutting the door securely behind her, Elizabeth turned her attention back to folding her extra gowns.

Madeline Gardiner, never one to hedge around important topics, decided to be direct with her niece.

"Lizzy, what is there between you and Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth was surprised by her aunt's blunt inquiry. She wasn't sure how to respond to it. After a moment's deliberation, she began, falteringly,

"Aunt, there is nothing between myself and Mr. Darcy..."

"But you wish there was," the older lady interrupted.

Elizabeth's hands froze mid-fold. She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn with color.

"You needn't be ashamed, Lizzy," the older lady continued. "Mr. Darcy is a fine man. Very amiable, certainly very generous. Very handsome, as well."

Mrs. Gardiner eyed her niece with brows arched, awaiting her reaction.

"Am I really that transparent?" Elizabeth sighed and sat heavily down on the edge of the bed.

Mrs. Gardiner smiled kindly at her young niece, and seated herself beside Elizabeth on the bed, placing an arm comfortingly around her slender shoulders.

"I must confess, I had no trouble at all seeing that you hold a special regard for the gentleman. I don't think your uncle noticed anything, but, then again, he could think of little else but the prospect of a full week of unlimited access to Pemberley's trout population."

Elizabeth laughed knowingly at the accurate depiction of her uncle's single-mindedness. Mr. Darcy had been so kind to extend such a generous invitation to her relatives. He was truly the best of men.

"I could also see," Mrs. Gardiner continued, "that Mr. Darcy returns your admiration."

Elizabeth's head shot up in surprise at her aunt's unexpected assertion. If only she could believe it to be true!

"Oh, Aunt, I only wish it were so. I'm certain that he sees me only as a friend, or perhaps as a daughter of sorts."

"Lizzy, I've always admired your intelligence. Surely you can see that Mr. Darcy would not have extended the invitation if he saw you only in the ways you seem to think. If my predictions are correct, you will leave Derbyshire with a new suitor in tow. Won't your mother be thrilled?"

"Aunt Madeline, what a cruel thing to tease about!" Elizabeth laughed at her aunt's playful manner, but, deep down, she felt dangerous stirrings of hope beginning to pull at her heart. Even so, the mention of her mother was sobering. The thought of Mr. Darcy and her mother in the same room at the same time was...well, impossible to imagine. Suddenly serious, Elizabeth sought to disabuse her aunt of such far-fetched notions.

"Even if Mr. Darcy did find my person and manners to his liking, I am far too beneath him in consequence for him to ever think of me. I have no fortune, no accomplishments, and, as you know, my connections are not at all what a lady who would aspire to be Mrs. Darcy must necessarily be. No, Aunt. It is a lovely thought, but it is impossible."

"I won't argue with you, Lizzy. I will let Mr. Darcy speak for himself, as I have no doubt he will do, when the time is right."

Mrs. Gardiner rose to leave the room. With her hand on the door knob, she turned back to address her niece once more.

"Just make sure you don't discourage him by remaining aloof out of some misguided attempt to guard your heart. There are few who have the courage to be truly in love without proper encouragement. However much he wishes to, Mr. Darcy may not pursue you if you do not help him on."

With that, Elizabeth's aunt left her alone in her room to ponder what had been said between them.

Could Mr. Darcy truly have intentions towards her? It seemed impossible, yet she had always respected her aunt's perceptiveness and good sense. As eager as she was to be in his presence again, Elizabeth couldn't squelch the little voice that urged her to guard her heart. She wasn't sure that she would be able to encourage him, as her aunt had said, without opening herself up to heartbreak and humiliation. She resolved to behave as she always had in his presence, but with little faith that she would be able to do so.

Whatever the outcome of the visit, she would always treasure the images she had stored in her mind of Mr. Darcy in only his damp shirtsleeves and breeches, then with his glossy black curls still wet from his bath. Even more poignant than his physical beauty, she knew she would always cherish the memory of his kindness to both herself and her aunt and uncle. There were not many great men who would rush to make such inconsequential guests welcome, and even less who would extend an invitation to spend a week at the estate.

Elizabeth began to wonder if Mr. Darcy was lonely in his great house with no wife or children to fill his life with love and companionship. She knew she would be, desperately so. Her eyes misted at the thought. Mr. Darcy was so warm and companionable, if, perhaps, a bit reticent in company. Concern for her own feelings fled in the face of her need to be kind to him, to show him her esteem by offering him her unwavering friendship, even if that was all he desired of her. They had proven over several weeks in Kent that they enjoyed each other's company and had much in common. Her week in his company at Pemberley would be an enjoyable one, and she refused to allow her mind to think further than that.

* * *

><p>George Wickham scowled discontentedly at his last pound note. There were several shillings in his purse as well, but he knew that he had reached the end of his large living for the time being. Ever since his godfather had discovered that he had gambled away an entire month's allowance in one night, his cash flow had been cut in half. Now he was forced to spend what money he was allowed discerningly, an evil that Wickham couldn't countenance.<p>

_Darcy sits up there in his fine mansion with far more than a single man could possibly need, and all he can spare me is thirty measly pounds a month! I'm the closest thing he has to a son, for Christ's sake! I should be rolling in luxury at Darcy House with an entire cellar full of fine brandy and a harem of courtesans and disgruntled wives at my disposal, not scraping by in this dung hole of a boarding house. _

Wickham's poisonous thoughts continued in this vein until his natural tendency to scheme his way into what he desired pushed unprofitable complaints away for the moment. His godfather, like everyone else, had weakness that could be exploited, buttons that could be pushed. The problem was that, in the last nine and twenty years, he had used all of them so many times that they had lost much of their effectiveness. Perhaps things would have gone better for him if he hadn't disappointed Darcy so grievously by failing to complete his studies at Cambridge, gambling and drinking away the money he was allowed, and invariably failing at whatever occupation he tried to put his hand to - when he condescended to do so.

_At least the old prude never found out about that incident with the Earl of Winchester's daughter, or that other pretty little chit who carries my child. Of course, no one could prove it was mine anyway..._

Guiding his thoughts back to the business at hand, Wickham made a firm resolution to travel forthwith to Pemberley. He hadn't seen it in several years. His godfather had been less than welcoming of late, and he hadn't been invited. Not wishing to push his luck, and risk what paltry allowance he was still granted, Wickham had been content to stay out of Darcy's hair. Besides, London was where the real sport was to be had. At this time, however, he felt that he had no other choice. He had lost so much the previous evening at the gaming tables that he wouldn't be able to pay for his room, let alone a reasonable amount of spirits. Darcy still had one weakness that could possibly prove useful, and, besides, one never knew what new vulnerabilities could sprout in several years' time.

* * *

><p>A quick note concerning Wickham:<p>

For the purposes of this story, Wickham has not made the acquaintance of any of the Bennets. He has been getting an allowance from his godfather (Darcy), so he hasn't needed to join the regiment to support himself. So, we are, at least, spared the Lydia/Wickham elopement angst this time. What else Wickham may have in store for ODC remains to be seen!


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Here's a bit of a longer chapter for you. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts. Wickham arrives in the next installment. *_cue evil laughter_*

* * *

><p>The morning of the move to Pemberley dawned bright and glorious. Elizabeth felt a renewed sense of optimism about her relationship with Mr. Darcy. She trusted her aunt's judgement, and decided to take her advice. She would be kind to Mr. Darcy and would respond graciously to his overtures, whether they be friendly or romantic in nature. Her greatly admired elder sister, Jane, would serve as her example. When she and Mr. Bingley had been courting, Jane had behaved in an open and receptive manner, always with a ready smile for the object of her affections. Now she had been married to her beloved these five months, and was expecting her first child.<p>

The thought of carrying Mr. Darcy's child inside her thrilled Elizabeth to the core. Surely there could be no greater happiness than to carry the child of one's beloved. Jane had told her as much when she discovered her great joy. As far as she knew, Mr. Darcy had no children, and would need an heir to his estate. She knew that, should he deign to find her worthy to be the mistress of Pemberley and mother to his heir, she would readily oblige. The beginnings of love had been stirring inside her heart in the months since he had first entered her life, and she knew that time would only strengthen it. There was no doubt in her mind that, in marrying Mr. Darcy, she would fulfill her vow to marry only for the deepest love. Jane would be so happy for her.

"_Stop this, Elizabeth," _her rational mind insisted. "_You must stop thinking of marriage to Mr. Darcy as the certainty that it certainly is not. He may wish only to be friends. You must accept that. No more foolishness!" _

Elizabeth's mental chastisement was interrupted by her aunt's knock and announcement that the carriage was ready for their departure. They were to join Mr. Darcy and her uncle, who had gone ahead at dawn for his fishing excursion, at Pemberley to break their fast. Afterwards Mr. Darcy had promised an open carriage ride around the grounds, followed by a picnic luncheon and croquet match. He had also promised, with enchanting childlike enthusiasm, to show Elizabeth his library in course of the day. Elizabeth looked forward to discovering Pemberley's library with eager interest. If her impressions of Pemberley house thus far were any indication of the quality of its library, it was sure to be grand indeed.

The ride to Pemberley seemed interminably long to Elizabeth, who found it impossible to remain still. She desperately wished to walk, but knew that the distance was too great, even for a practiced walker such as herself. Mrs. Gardiner noticed her niece's anxiousness, and smiled sympathetically, placing one of her gloved hands over Elizabeth's in an attempt to halt her finger's frantic worrying of the fabric of her dress.

"You haven't many dresses with you, Lizzy. It would not do to ruin one."

Elizabeth merely smiled and ceased her destructive activities, frowning at the creases she had caused.

At long last, Pemberley manor came into view. As they traveled up the long drive, Elizabeth could see that Mr. Darcy stood awaiting them on the front steps, her grinning uncle beside him. When the carriage came to a halt in front of the steps, both gentlemen advanced to assist the ladies from the carriage. Mr. Gardiner, who noticed more than either his wife or niece gave him credit for, handed his wife down then stepped aside to allow Darcy the privilege of assisting Elizabeth. With a happy smile, Darcy held out both hands to Elizabeth, which she took with a delicate blush, deliberately taking her time in stepping down to prolong the contact. When her feet were on solid ground, Darcy held her hands for a bit longer than was proper, but her aunt and uncle kindly chose not to notice.

During the morning's fishing expedition, Mr. Gardiner had asked Mr. Darcy about his feelings for Elizabeth. Though Darcy had been expecting to be asked sooner or later, he had thought it would have come a bit later. Taking a moment to compose himself, he had begun by assuring Mr. Gardiner that his intentions were strictly honorable, and that he cared very deeply for Elizabeth. He explained that part of his purpose in inviting the party to Pemberley was to spend time in her company with the intent of gauging her feelings for him. Mr. Gardiner had taken it all in stride, confident that his niece was every bit as besotted as Mr. Darcy was, and sure that this would be an interesting week for all involved.

Darcy was proud as a peacock to lead Elizabeth into Pemberley's entryway on his arm. As the butler saw to Mrs. Gardiner, he took it upon himself to take Elizabeth's bonnet, gloves, and spencer from her, handing them to the awaiting maid.

"It is so lovely to have you here, Miss Bennet. I hope you're hungry, as my cook has outdone himself this morning. Pemberley hasn't had visitors in...well, too many years, and all the staff are excited by the prospect. I must admit a great deal of excitement for the week as well."

The last sentence was uttered an octave lower than the previous, for Elizabeth's ears only. She was blushing again. How lovely she appeared to Darcy! The urge to sweep her into his arms and press tender kisses everywhere that her creamy skin was infused with color was great. He was forced to remind himself that her relations were present, and it wouldn't do for him to become aroused, as there would be no hiding it in the light beige trousers he wore. Making a mental note to wear darker colors from then on, he offered Elizabeth his arm and steered them towards the dining room.

Breakfast was a pleasant experience for all. Cheerful conversation abounded, as did tray after tray of delicious eatables. The ladies were treated to a spirited recounting of the morning's outing by an ebullient Mr. Gardiner. Darcy contributed where appropriate, more reservedly, but happy to be in such excellent company.

Darcy had gotten on quite well with Elizabeth's uncle, which, he was sure, was a point in his favor. He knew that many of his circle would disdain an association with someone in trade, but Darcy had known enough tradesmen to develop a certain respect for them. They were generally intelligent and hard-working men, and had helped him make several very lucrative investments. He thought it rather droll that the upper echelons despised the class of people who provided them with the very clothes on their backs. As for Darcy, he thought very highly of the Gardiners already, and was sure that his regard would only grow with familiarity.

Elizabeth remained mostly silent throughout the meal. She enjoyed listening to her uncle's exaggerations on the sizes of the trout he had caught, as well as Darcy's more restrained contributions. She sampled the selection of delicious fruit compotes and tried in vein to keep her eyes from fixing themselves upon a certain handsome gentleman. She was largely unsuccessful. Much to her embarrassment, she often met his eye as she glanced his way. Knowing she had been caught, her eyes would dart quickly back to her plate.

After breakfast, the party returned out of doors and piled into an open carriage for a tour of Pemberley's extensive grounds. Elizabeth sat next to her aunt, across from Darcy, and eyed the untamed countryside with open admiration and wonder. Though Hertfordshire certainly had its charms, Elizabeth was sure that nothing could compare to the wild beauty of Derbyshire. She listened attentively to Darcy's smooth voice as he pointed out notable features of the landscape. He made note of what crops were grown in which fields, the number of tenants he currently had, and what spots had been his favorite haunts as a boy. He pointed out a lake some two or three miles from the house that, he mentioned pointedly to Mr. Gardiner, hadn't been fished in many years. It was instantly decided that the men would rectify the oversight starting at dawn of the following day.

When the party arrived back at the great house, Mrs. Gardiner expressed a desire to go up to her room to refresh herself, and her husband announced that he would accompany her. Darcy directed the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, to show them to their rooms after agreeing to meet again in an hour's time. Elizabeth held back, knowing that the proper thing to do would be to go up to her room as well, but she was loath to leave Darcy's amiable company.

When the Gardiners were mounting the stairs on their way to their rooms, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and asked if she did not desire to refresh herself before luncheon as well. Elizabeth quietly demurred, expressing a desire for a walk in the garden.

"If I may, Miss Bennet, I would suggest a different destination for your walk. We will soon picnic in the garden. I wish to show you my favorite room in the house, if you will accompany me."

Elizabeth smiled expectantly and took his proffered arm. She had a pretty good idea where he was leading her, but sought to alleviate the nervous anticipation she felt at being left alone with him with humor.

"Mr. Darcy I am quite at a loss as to where you could be leading me. Surely you would not show a lady your billiards room. I'm convinced that you do not lead me to the ball room, as I have it on very good authority that you loathe dancing."

Darcy chuckled at her playful banter.

"I assume my nephew, Fitzwilliam, is the source of that intelligence."

"Indeed. I would, perhaps, guess that the dining room might be a favorite of yours, what with the excellence of Pemberley's cook, but I have already seen it. I'm afraid I am at a loss."

Smiling widely, Darcy drew Elizabeth towards a pair of carved double doors at the end of a long hall. Without further ado, he threw them wide, watching as her eyes flared with excitement as his extremely well-stocked library came into her view.

Elizabeth couldn't conceive of any room in the whole of England that could so perfectly combine all her favorite things into one lovely space. The library was a two story room with a high ceiling and many large windows that afforded breathtaking views of Pemberley's informal garden. French doors opened onto a lovely terrace with a softly trickling fountain. A large fireplace with an ornately carved marble mantlepiece was the center of a comfortable seating area with a plush sofa and several high-backed chairs. The walls of the inviting room were lined with row after row of books reaching nearly to the ceiling. The second story was accessed by a small spiral stair case, and formed a sort of half circle around the perimeter of the room, allowing the occupants a view of the painted domed ceiling and bronze chandelier from below. The entire picture was perfectly contrived to render Elizabeth alternately speechless and profuse in her praise of the room's perfections.

Darcy watched with pride and eagerness as Elizabeth took in her surroundings. He had come to know that she valued literature and nature more than most else, as he also did, and had often thought that she would enjoy his library which combined the two astoundingly well. After her initial awe had abated, Darcy pointed out to her which genre of literature could be found in which section of shelving. He was pleased that she seemed to take special note of the poetry and history sections, which he also favored. As he walked her around the perimeter of the room, he pointed out a couple of secluded alcoves in which a reader could find perfect solitude. Each was outfitted with its own chaise and a small table.

The second reading nook Darcy showed her was pointed out as his personal favorite, which explained the presence of several books stacked on the table and one lying on the chaise. Elizabeth shot him a playful glance and reached for the stack of books, reading each of their titles.

"Let's see. I must say Mr. Darcy, your reading material has been rather dull of late. These are all agricultural texts and one rather thick tome on animal husbandry. I must say, I am disappointed, Sir."

Darcy smiled at her archness, and gestured towards the tome on the chaise.

"But, Miss Elizabeth, you have not yet pursued my most recent interest."

Replacing the books she held back on the table, Elizabeth reached for the volume Darcy indicated. Upon reading the spine, her smile grew and she laughed delightedly. She looked back at Darcy to find him grinning rather mischievously at her.

"Lord Byron," she read. "I have never personally pursued his work, but I hear it can be rather scandalizing for young ladies."

"Perhaps," Darcy replied as he stepped closer to take the book from Elizabeth's hands. "However, it would be a shame for one so fond of poetry as yourself to miss out entirely on what he has to offer. If you are agreeable, Miss Elizabeth, I would enjoy reading some of his less scandalizing verses to you when the occasion arrises."

"I would enjoy that very much. Sir."

"Now," Darcy began excitedly, "there is something else I should like to show you."

Taking her hand eagerly in his, he lead her to a dark corner of the library. Stopping before one of the shelves, he turned to Elizabeth was a conspiratorial smirk.

"I hope you are not afraid of the dark, Miss Elizabeth."

"Not since I was a child," she answered cheerfully, intrigued by his cryptic behavior.

"Excellent."

With that, Darcy tipped one of the books towards him, and a secret door gave way to a dark passage. Elizabeth gasped and laughed delightedly.

"Where does it lead?"

"Come. I'll show you."

Darcy once again offered her his hand, pulling her into the dark hallway and closing the secret door behind them. Elizabeth's pulse hammered in her chest, and Darcy was scarcely less affected. It was difficult to ignore the fact that they were completely alone in a dark passageway, holding hands and forced to stand quite close to each other in the narrow space. Elizabeth hadn't missed the fact that, when alone, Darcy had reverted to calling her "Miss Elizabeth" rather than the strictly proper "Miss Bennet."

After a moment's pause, Darcy began leading her slowly through the darkness. He had traversed the passage many times and no longer needed the assistance of a candle to find his way. Soon, a few rays of sunlight became visible at the far end of the passageway. When they reached a fork, Darcy indicated that they should continue left. Elizabeth innocently inquired as to where the other passage would lead.

Darcy blushed by answered honestly.

"It leads to my bedchamber."

Elizabeth blushed in turn. For some unexplainable reason, thinking about Mr. Darcy's bedchamber caused her heart to race alarmingly.

She was soon distracted however, when they arrived at the exit to the passageway that opened into the conservatory. Elizabeth was, once again, awed by what she beheld. Row after row of beautiful plants and flowers, many impressive, exotic varieties, lay before her eyes.

Darcy smiled and stood to the side as Elizabeth gently fingered the petals of several flowers, often bending to inhale their fragrance. If this morning was any indication of how Elizabeth would respond to his advances, then he was sure his suit would meet with a very favorable result. He looked forward to finding a time to read Byron to her, preferably alone, if it could be contrived. He had spent many an hour since returning to Pemberley immersed in Byron's verse while thinking and dreaming of Elizabeth. There was one passage in particular that he had committed to memory, thinking it a most apt description of this young woman who had so enthralled him. It came to mind even as he watched her moving gracefully amongst the blooms.

_She walks in beauty, like the night_

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

_And all that's best of dark and bright_

_Meet in her aspect and her eyes: *_

* from "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron


	5. Chapter 4

"Edward, do you suppose we ought not to have left Elizabeth alone with Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Gardiner asked her dozing husband as she sat before the vanity mirror putting the finishing touches on her appearance.

Mr. Gardiner answered her from his position lying prone on the bed.

"Oh, I'm sure it was perfectly alright. It was only for an hour, and Darcy is an honorable man with only the best of intentions towards her. I asked him about them myself this morning."

"Really? And what did he say?"

"He said that he had formed an attachment to our Lizzy while they were in company together during Lizzy's visit to Kent last spring, but had decided not to court her because he was worried someone as lively as our dear girl wouldn't be happy with an older husband. When Providence seemingly threw her back into his path yesterday, he formed a resolution to at least try courting her to see if her feelings for him are such that he might be able to make her happy. If he meets with a favorable result, he plans to follow her to Hertfordshire shortly after we depart."

"Good heavens! I hadn't the slightest idea you had questioned Mr. Darcy so thoroughly. Well done, my love."

Mr. Gardiner smiled at his lovely wife's enthusiastic approval, and gestured for her to join him on the bed. She readily obliged, perching demurely on the edge and taking his outstretched hand.

"So, you see now why I thought it best to allow him this time alone with Lizzy; so that he can, hopefully, accomplish his goal of winning her affections. I know our Lizzy to be a private sort of young woman. I have no doubt that she will keep her feelings guarded while in company, even ours. We shall have to contrive to give them little moments alone here and there if the match is to take place."

"Why, Edward, if anyone had told me that you would take up matchmaking, I would never have believed it. But, here you are, behaving so much like your sister, Fanny, that I begin to wonder if I shall soon be fetching you your smelling salts and listening to your profusions on Mr. Darcy's wealth!"

Mr. Gardiner chuckled good-naturedly at his wife's playfulness.

"Perhaps so, my dear. But you and I both know that Lizzy could never be happy with a man who was not her equal, in both intellect and maturity. She could never love without respect. Darcy will command her respect, and I firmly believe he will treat her with respect in turn. When questioned about why he singled Elizabeth out, he waxed rather eloquent on the liveliness of her mind and her love of books and learning."

"I agree with you that it would be an excellent match on both sides," Mrs. Gardiner added. "Elizabeth would have financial security and a husband who would love and value her for her fine mind and playful spirit. His maturity and knowledge of the world can only be an asset to her. Furthermore, Elizabeth's youth and easy nature might soften some of Mr. Darcy's rough edges. As amiable as he has been to us, I understand that he has been somewhat of a recluse for several years. She would bring joy and laughter to his life, both things, I fear, he has been lacking for a long time."

Mr. Gardiner's expressions of agreement with his wife's sentiments were interrupted by a knock on the door. Both rose to admit Mrs. Reynolds, who curtseyed gracefully before asking after their comfort. Assured that the guests were well situated, she proceeded with her assigned task.

"I have been asked to inform you that the master and Miss Bennet await your company in the conservatory."

"Excellent. Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds," replied a jovial Mr. Gardiner. "We will be down presently."

As the door closed behind the housekeeper, Mr. Gardiner turned to his wife and wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her into a loose embrace.

"See, what did I tell you? Perfect gentleman."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled and rewarded her endearingly smug husband with a brief kiss.

"Yes, you were quite right, Edward. Now, let us not keep them waiting any longer."

Mrs. Gardiner lovingly adjusted her husband's cravat, and accepted his arm to be led from the room.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth stood enthralled by the beauty of the several varieties of exotic orchids clustered in one corner of the conservatory. Their delicate white petals opened to reveal softly blushing centers, tempting her fingers to touch their delicate beauty *, to discover their secrets. She became aware of Darcy's presence beside her, even before she saw him. She watched as he reached out one strong hand to pluck a delicate bloom from its stem.<p>

For a moment, he cradled the flower in his palm, studying it pensively.

"Orchids were a favorite of my mother's," Darcy spoke quietly. "Though there has not been a mistress at Pemberley for many years, and there are rarely visitors, I have always desired to keep the gardens and conservatory what they were during her life. To honor her memory, I suppose."

"They are very lovely," Elizabeth sighed. "And there are so many varieties, each more unique than the last. I can see why she valued them so."

Mustering his courage, Darcy stepped closer to Elizabeth, and, ever so carefully, tucked the bloom into her chestnut curls, allowing his fingertips to linger briefly on the softness of her hair.

Elizabeth smiled bashfully and whispered her thanks, to which Darcy's only reply was to smile adoringly down at her exquisite face. He noted how well the orchid complemented Elizabeth's fragile loveliness. Her skin was white and soft as the petals, her lips as pink as the blushing center. His eyes focused on her lips, so temptingly moist and full. For the moment, all he could think on was his desire to brush her lips with his, to discover her taste, the sweetness of her innocent response.

Before he could even contemplate acting on his desires, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner entered.

"Oh, Edward, how lovely!" Mrs. Gardiner cast her eyes about the space, smiling softly at the beauty around her.

"Lovely, indeed, my dear," her indulgent husband responded.

"Come look at the orchids, Aunt! Are the not delightful?"

"They're beautiful," Mrs. Gardiner replied, eyeing the bloom nestled amongst her niece's curls with knowing amusement.

The party lingered in the conservatory for several more minutes before venturing out into the informal garden for their picnic. The staff had spread several blankets over the soft grass under the shade of several verdant trees. Elizabeth admired the beauty of nature around her, pleased by the unpretentious, unforced beauty of the garden that was meant only for the enjoyment of Pemberley's inhabitants. The manicured, fussed-over gardens of Rosings, fashionable though they may have been, held no comparison, in Elizabeth's mind, to the beauty before her.

When Elizabeth remarked upon her surroundings, she was pleased to learn from Darcy that he, too, preferred a gardening style that encouraged nature, rather than stifled it.

"This is my own personal Eden," he had said, glancing proudly about him.

As soon as her plate had been emptied, Elizabeth began to explore, finding several secluded seating areas and two small fountains secreted amongst the abundant verdure. She was delighted by all she beheld. Too soon, her aunt's voice called her to rejoin the party for their croquet match. With a silent vow to return to her explorations at the first opportunity, she turned to rejoin the others.

Mr. Gardiner immediately claimed his wife as his partner for the match, cleverly leaving Darcy and Elizabeth no choice but to partner with each other, a situation neither minded in the least. Elizabeth was amused to discover that, while he possessed no very great skill with a ball and mallet, Darcy was, like herself, a highly competitive sort. Yet, he bore his own mistakes, and the triumphs of the opposing team, with a dignity and grace that spoke to his gentlemanlike disposition. Though the Gardiners put up a valiant effort, Darcy and Elizabeth won the day.

"Excellent work, Miss Bennet," Darcy said as he clasped her hand in congratulation. "I had no idea you were such a sportsman."

"I'm sure you meant 'sports_woman_,' Sir," Elizabeth retorted.

"Yes, of course. How unforgivably rude of me!"

Elizabeth laughingly accepted Darcy's arm to be led back into the house.

Regretfully, Darcy announced that he would need to spend the hours before supper attending to correspondence in his study. The Gardiners graciously excused him, expressing their desire to spend the remainder of the afternoon resting in their rooms. Elizabeth announced her intention to take another turn in the garden before repairing upstairs to dress for the evening. After promising her aunt that she would go no further than the garden walls, Elizabeth returned outdoors.

* * *

><p>Wickham smiled in silent triumph as he reached the summit of the hill that brought Pemberley house into his view. Predictably, the ever-present bitterness squelched the good feelings almost as soon as they had come.<p>

"If only the old curmudgeon would come to his senses and make me his heir..." Wickham grumbled aloud. "It isn't as though he intends to sire one himself."

For several minutes, Wickham merely sat atop his horse, a recent gift from one of the many unhappily-married widows to whom he lent his amorous services, and admired what he believed should rightfully, one day, be his. It wasn't the lovely prospect Wickham saw, but the thought of what ten thousand pounds a year, and very possibly more, could buy him. What would it be to never run out of drink, to have at his disposal numerous servants to do his bidding, to immerse himself in luxury and idleness each day and night? There would be no woman in the whole of England he could not have. In fact, Pemberley house probably had enough space for a harem.

Wickham chuckled darkly to himself at the thought. It seemed unfair that such good fortune had fallen to one too prudish to take advantage of it, and too selfish to deserve it.

Next, he pondered the upcoming meeting with his godfather. He would need a plan. Darcy could be easy to manage when approached correctly, but Wickham knew that, despite the low esteem in which he held the man, Darcy was hardly stupid. Additionally, many of the usual ploys had lost their effectiveness in recent years. Wickham believed he held the trump card, however. He knew that, deep down inside his aging heart, Darcy was a lonely man. A man without a family of is own. A man who could be relieved of a few pounds with a simple friendly conversation over dinner and companionable gallop through the countryside. Wickham was the closest thing to a living son Darcy had ever had, and, over the years, he had taken full advantage of the fact.

Resolving to employ his usual charming demeanor to break through Darcy's defenses before convincing him to reinstate his previous rate of allowance, Wickham started towards the house.

Ah, what a delight it was to order underlings about! Tossing the reigns to a nearby stable hand, Wickham swaggered from the stable towards the house, head held high as if he were master of the estate. In truth, he was not as confident as he appeared. While he had faith in his abilities as a con artist, the fact remained, and he could not fail to acknowledge it, that his godfather may not respond as desired. He could be turned out on his arse and forced to return to London without a farthing for his trouble.

"_No,"_ he thought, "_Darcy would never callously disregard his dear, devoted godson. Besides, Lady Luck has been my favorite mistress for many years. She may see fit to smile upon me yet."_

At that moment, he rounded the corner and came into view of the informal garden. What he beheld there put a lecherous smile on his face. A new plan began to form in his quick-working mind.

"_Well, well, Darcy-old-boy. What have we here?"_

_*__In the language of flowers, orchids often symbolize beauty - delicate beauty, or rare beauty._


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Just so nobody worries unnecessarily, Elizabeth is physically safe from Wickham in this story. No assaults or abductions here!

Ok, now prepare yourselves, 'cause Wickham's closing in! *cue Jaws theme*

* * *

><p>Wickham analyzed the comely young woman before him with a practiced eye. The first thing he noticed was the graceful curve of her figure, the roundness of her hips and the fullness of her bosom. She was fair complected with a pleasing face and very fine, bright eyes. Her hips swayed as she moved, signaling to Wickham a latent sensuality lingering just under that refined surface.<p>

The young lady was the picture of beauty and purity, youth and vitality. She possessed all the necessary charms to captivate most any man, even one who tried to pretend a complete lack of interest in the fairer sex.

Wickham's insides rioted with excitement and intrigue. Who was this nubile young wench wandering about in Pemberley's private, family gardens? Had Darcy finally come down off his high horse and taken a mistress? Oh, how delicious it would be to seduce the great master of Pemberley's young paramour, then break the news of the old prude's licentious ways to the gossip columns! Or perhaps she was an illegitimate daughter from a illicit tryst twenty years past. Once again, fodder for the gossip columns and pounds for Wickham's purse. Darcy would, in all likelihood, be willing to pay Wickham many times over what the tabloids would offer in exchange for his silence. It appeared that Lady Luck was on his side once again.

Taking a moment to pull together his most charming facade, Wickham prepared to greet the chit. It would be the work of a moment to discover her identity, and to form a plan to use her presence to his greatest monetary advantage. Though Wickham had never applied himself to studies of any legitimate or academic sort, his mind was sharp and he was not without a liberal measure of innate intelligence. He had always prided himself on his ability to think quickly under any circumstances. Had he taken it into his head to pursue a career on the stage, he would surely have gained a name for himself. His dashing good looks, smooth tongue, and inborn ability to deceive with ease had always served him well.

Next, he gave a moment's attention to his appearance. He knew himself to be covered in sweat and road dust, but even filth could be used to his advantage. He had already removed his cravat and unbuttoned his waistcoat against the sweltering summer heat. Unbuttoning two additional shirt buttons to show a bit of chest seemed a worthwhile undertaking, especially if the lady proved a randy one. Suitably assured of his appeal, Wickham stepped out of his hiding place.

Elizabeth started at the sudden appearance of an unknown young man - a very handsome young man, at that. He was of average hight and trim build with sandy blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. Judging by his disheveled appearance, he had only just arrived on horseback. Modestly, she averted her eyes.

"Please, Miss, accept my most humble apologies for startling you. I assure you it was not my intent. I did not see you there."

The stranger possessed a friendly voice and open, cheerful mien that served to ease some of Elizabeth's discomfort. He certainly had a charming smile, and appeared harmless enough.

"No apology is necessary, Sir. I simply wasn't expecting to see anyone."

As soon as Elizabeth's eyes turned back his way, Wickham allowed his to move swiftly over her form. He purposely allowed his mouth to gape open as he studied her. Women were invariably shallow creatures, easily won by the complement of an admiring glance. With expert timing, he returned his eyes to her face, appearing suitably penitent for having been caught staring.

"Do forgive me, Miss, but you, too, have stunned me. Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is George Wickham. I am Mr. Darcy's godson." The introduction was punctuated with a sweeping bow and a winsome smile.

Elizabeth was astonished at this turn of events. Mr. Darcy had never mentioned a godson. She knew she shouldn't engage a strange gentleman in conversation alone, and without a proper introduction, but curiosity got the better of her. Besides, if this gentleman was truly Mr. Darcy's godson, he must be a respectable gentleman, and deserved to be treated with civility.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wickham. My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I am a visitor here. My aunt and uncle were so kind as to invite me to accompany them on their tour of the Peak District, and Mr. Darcy has generously invited us to spend the week at Pemberley."

"Delightful," Wickham responded with a lopsided, dimple-revealing grin he had discovered affected the ladies exceedingly well. Not for a moment did he believe that this delectable morsel was merely a tourist Darcy had "generously" invited to stay at Pemberley. He was far too private a man for such feats of hospitality. The aunt and uncle were more difficult to explain. Perhaps they were merely a ruse to disguise the true nature of her visit?

"Miss Bennet, may I ask how you came to be aquatinted with my dear godfather?"

Elizabeth was surprised by the direct question, but, sensing no ill intent from the gentleman before her, decided to answer honestly.

"I was so fortunate as to make Mr. Darcy's acquaintance while visiting a friend in Kent. She is recently married to Lady Catherine de Burgh's parson, Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy happened to be visiting his late wife's relations at Rosings Park, at the time."

_Ah, the old bag and the sickly nag. _Wickham chuckled to himself at the thought of Darcy finally condescending to visit Lady Anne's most insipid of relations. Either the old man had done so out of irrepressible loneliness, or perhaps...

Seeing an opportunity to discover the young lady's true feelings for Darcy, Wickham decided to employ a little nugget of information he had always known would prove to be of use one day. Lady Catherine had many vein wishes, which she often saw fit to vocalize to anyone with a willing ear, and often those not so willing. For once, Wickham may have been right to listen to the old bore.

"Ah, yes, the infamous Lady Catherine," he acknowledged smoothly. "I suppose Darcy must suffer her _charming_ company if he is to enjoy that of his intended."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide at Mr. Wickham's insinuation. She could feel her heart sinking in her chest. _His intended? Whatever did Mr. Wickham mean?_

Wickham was none too pleased with himself at his sudden stroke of genious. _Aha! There it is. The shock, the pain. Now to drive the nail home! _

"Forgive me, I can see you were unaware of my godfather's betrothal to Miss de Burgh. I would have thought he would have told you the news himself, as you seem to be on friendly terms. The union has been planned since Miss de Burgh first came of age. They are only waiting for her health to improve to proceed with the marriage. I thought, surely, they would have announced it by now."

So, it was true! Elizabeth fought to maintain her composure, but tears, unbidden, filled her eyes. She forced them back with all her might, willing herself to accept that she had been right all along. Mr. Darcy had never thought of her as a potential wife. All she could do was accept it, and somehow make it through the week ahead.

Her voice traitorously unsteady, Elizabeth replied,

"I was unaware of the betrothal, Mr. Wickham. I must say, I am astonished."

"Yes, this union has been planned for several years now. It was Lady Catherine's idea, to begin with. Of course, you know that Mr. Darcy's late wife was Lady Catherine's sister. Anne de Burgh was named for Anne Darcy. I was a mere child when the dear lady passed, but it is said that Miss de Burgh is the very image of Anne Darcy, God rest her. She was all that was gracious, lovely, and good. My godfather loved her very much."

Elizabeth's thoughts were in turmoil. _Engaged to Miss de Burgh! How is this to be believed? _

She knew Miss de Burgh to be aged seven and twenty years, old enough to be considered a spinster. Certainly it was a more mature age than Elizabeth's mere twenty years. Perhaps Mr. Darcy preferred a woman nearer his own age to be his wife. Besides, she could hardly blame Mr. Darcy for desiring a match with a woman who reminded him of his late wife, whom he apparently loved dearly. Miss de Burgh also possessed the rank, connections, and fortune to be an appropriate Mrs. Darcy - all things Elizabeth was sorely lacking. She recalled the evenings spent in the drawing room at Rosings. It was true that she had often seen Mr. Darcy sitting with and attending to Miss de Burgh, though she had never noticed any particular tenderness in his behavior towards her, and it was more often at Lady Catherine's urging than his own initiative.

Elizabeth was so immersed in her own inner musings that she was startled when Mr. Wickham spoke.

"Miss Bennet, I see I have surprised you again. I apologize. Please allow me to see you back to the house."

Wickham smiled, again, and offered Elizabeth his arm. She hesitated only momentarily before accepting it with a forced smile. Determined not to allow her disappointment and anger to get the better of her until she was alone in her chamber, Elizabeth turned her attention to the young man beside her. He was very handsome, after all, and seemed quite amiable. Certainly an adequate distraction for her sore heart. If she was no longer allowed to enjoy Mr. Darcy's attentions, she would, for the time being, console herself with Mr. Wickham's.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm her emotions, Elizabeth sought to engage Mr. Wickham in light conversation.

"I take it you have only just arrived at Pemberley, Mr. Wickham."

"Yes, I rode this morning from London," he answered.

"I do hope the roads were good for your journey. The weather has certainly been lovely."

"Quite right, Miss Bennet. It is a fine time of year for travel, and the roads were in excellent repair, as they generally are this time of year."

Taking a sudden departure from light discussion of the weather, Elizabeth decided to indulge her inquisitive nature. She stopped walking and turned to face her companion.

"Mr. Wickahm, I know it is impertinent of me...we haven't even been formally introduced, but...may I ask you a rather personal question?"

Delighted by this confirmation that he was gaining Elizabeth's trust, Wickham gave her leave to continue.

"Well, you see," she began, "Mr. Darcy has never mentioned you within my hearing, and I was just curious..."

"I see," Wickham interrupted. "You wish to enquire as to the state of relations between myself and my godfather."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, and Wickham saw yet another opportunity to further insinuate himself into the lady's good graces.

"I don't mind telling you, Miss Bennet. Not at all."

Offering his arm again, Wickham began leading Elizabeth forward once again.

"My late father was Mr. Darcy's steward. I grew up here at Pemberley. I was born the year before the tragic death of Lady Anne. Mr. Darcy sought comfort for his loss in helping my parents raise me. We were somewhat close until I left for Cambridge, though Darcy was never one to show much affection. I have always been a devoted godson to him. It pained me greatly when he began to withdraw his affection without any real explanation."

"Withdraw his affection? What do you mean?"

Wickham sighed dramatically, feigning a troubled expression. He was pleased to feel Elizabeth's fingers tighten on his arm. A glance at her face told him that he had succeeded in eliciting her concern.

"Forgive me for troubling you with my personal cares, Miss Bennet."

"Not at all, Mr. Wickham. I haven't known Mr. Darcy for very long, but I have always supposed him to be loyal to those whom he considers family or friends. Surely, as his godson, you might be placed in both categories."

"Thank you for your kind consideration, Miss Bennet. While it pains me to speak ill of anyone, particularly one as dear to me as my godfather, I must acknowledge that my belief in his sense of loyalty has been shaken in recent years. You see, he had promised me the living at Kympton for after I finished my studies. It has long been my wish to take orders and make the church my life. However, when it came time for me to claim the living, he gave it to another man."

"Why? Why would he do that?" Elizabeth cried in angry disbelief. Had girlish infatuation completely blinded her to Mr. Darcy's true nature? Could she have been so foolish?

"I only wish I knew the answer myself. It has been above three years since I have seen or heard from the old man. I would be loathe to allow the estrangement to become permanent, so here I am. He is all the family I have left in the world."

The sound of rapid footfalls broke into their solitude, and a very angry Darcy came striding down the path towards them.

"Wickham! What, in g**'s name, are you doing here?"

Elizabeth was stunned and hurt by Darcy's harsh treatment of his godson, the closest thing he had ever had to a child of his own. She had never seen him so uncivil.

_Is he finally showing his true self? No, there must be some mistake! This is not _my _Mr. Darcy!_

She turned her eyes to Wickham, who hung his head in feigned contrition. After a moment, he put on a brave smile and drew himself up to his full hight to address Darcy in a soft tone of mock affection.

"Godfather, it is a pleasure to see you again. It has been far too long."

Rather than acknowledge his godson's greeting, Darcy merely pointed a finger in the young man's face and demanded,

"My study, now!"

With that, Darcy turned and stormed back towards the house without even sparing a glance for his shocked guest.

Wickham released an audible sigh and turned back to Elizabeth.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With a dejected bow of his head, Wickham made to follow his godfather into the house, purposefully dragging his feet along the gravel path. He felt that his interview with the mystery woman had gone rather swimmingly. He had certainly shaken the lady's, whomever she was, faith in Darcy, who had certainly seemed incensed to find him speaking with her. All that remained was to determine how much, preferably in monetary terms, she meant to him.

_Uh, oh! I must now brace myself for the impact of the reviews I'm sure I will receive. :) It has not escaped me that many readers hope that Elizabeth doesn't get taken in by Wickham this time, and, I promise, her disillusionment is only temporary. Keep in mind that she has no reason to disbelieve what Wickham has told her. After all, she has only known Darcy for a short time, and Wickham is, in her mind, the closest of Mr. Darcy's relations that she has met. Please withhold the tar and feathers until after the next installment, in which Elizabeth will have time to think over the conversation with Wickham. Once she has time to recover from the shock and think clearly about what was said, she'll come around. Without the infamous Meryton Assembly insult to skew her judgement of Darcy, she will be much more disposed to reserve judgement, as I hope you all will do until you see my next chapter. ;)_

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Well, here it is! This chapter was a bit difficult to write, which explains why it's a bit later than usual. I hope the fact that it's a good bit longer than usual will make up for the delay. :)

By the way, thanks for holding off on the tar and feathers, everyone! This chapter marks the first step in Elizabeth's journey towards completely acquitting Darcy of the charges Wickham has brought against him. The next chapter will see them completely eradicated, and ODC brought closer together for it, I promise!

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><p>The pile of letters and miscellaneous papers spread on the desk before him seemed impossibly more dull than usual to Darcy, who desired nothing more than to be in Elizabeth's delightful company again. It had only been a quarter hour at most since they had parted ways, but he felt her absence in every fiber of his being. He smiled to himself at the thought that, should he succeed in his suit to win Elizabeth as his wife, he would have to keep her by his side at all times if he were ever to get any work done. Perhaps, at times, she would demand his full attention, which he was sure he would be all too happy to give her. Elizabeth was a lively, adventurous woman who probably would not be <em>too <em>scandalized if he placed her on the edge of his desk and stepped between her parted thighs, raising her skirts to bunch around her hips as he undulated against her...

Once again uncomfortably aroused and unable to think of anything besides Elizabeth Bennet and her many charms, Darcy rose from his desk and sauntered in the general direction of the window, which conveniently looked out over the informal garden. Just a glimpse, that was all. He would allow himself the pleasure of gazing upon her as she strolled unawares in the garden below, and then he _would _attend to his correspondence.

It took his searching eyes a few moments to find Elizabeth's petit form below, and several more for his shocked senses to fully register the fact that she was not alone. He was indescribably surprised to see his wayward godson standing improperly close to Elizabeth, engaging her in conversation as though they were old acquaintances.

_Just like him, that cad, to show up as soon as something good comes into my life and do what he can to ruin it. If he imposes himself on that angel, I shall not be responsible for my actions! _

It was a forgone conclusion that, any time George Wickham sought his namesake's company, his sole object was obtaining some pecuniary advantage for himself. Darcy had accepted the fact years ago. His godson cared nothing for his company in itself, only for the material advantages he could stand to gain from the connection. Of all things, Darcy detested associations with those who saw only his large annual income and grand estate. It was this conscious avoidance of all things mercenary that contributed most to his solitary lifestyle. He would have, under any circumstances, sent Wickham packing back to London as soon as feasibly possible, but seeing that man, who he knew to be an unscrupulous rake, speaking privately with _his _Elizabeth made Darcy's blood boil.

Darcy gripped the window sill, willing himself to gain a measure of control over his fierce protective instincts. It wouldn't do for Elizabeth to see his temper. The pair seemed to be moving in the direction of the house, which was acceptable. As soon as they entered, he would see to it that Elizabeth was removed from Wickham's unsavory presence for good.

His resolve was sadly short-lived, for, soon after it was made, Elizabeth tilted her head in such a way as to give Darcy a glimpse of her face under the rim of her bonnet. His heart constricted at the distress clearly visible in her every delicate feature. Whatever the reprobate was saying to her was causing her pain. Darcy could only imagine what lies his godson was feeding her.

Wickham was the consummate lier. It was what made him so dangerous. Even as a small child, his ability to prevaricate without batting an eyelash, or raising so much as the smallest suspicion, was frightening in its potency. The most distressing aspect of Wickham's lies was that he invariably imbedded a grain of truth in each, lending believability to his deceit.

It was evident that the scoundrel was disturbing Elizabeth. Darcy found his feet carrying him, without conscious effort, down the hall and towards the library door. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought for the self-command to _not_ pummel Wickham repeatedly while demanding to know what falsehoods had been forced upon his sweet love. The thought of the horror he would surely witness on Elizabeth's face should he proceed as such was enough to keep his temper reasonably in check.

_Just think of Elizabeth, _he repeated over and over like a mantra.

As he approached the pair on the gravel path, Darcy barked out an order for Wickham to attend him in his study that very moment, as well as what passed as a greeting in his present state of agitation. Though his thoughts were focused primarily on Elizabeth, he could not bring himself to look her way. That pained look he had seen on her face was something he never wished to witness again. His self-control was tenuous enough without that additional provocation.

Once back in his study, Darcy crossed to the liquor cabinet in the corner and poured himself a generous glass of brandy, which he consumed in one long gulp.

"Close the door, Wickham," he barked.

Wickham merely snickered to himself and did as he was told. He had clearly succeeded in unhinging his godfather, and he took great pleasure in the knowledge. Darcy did not give him time to revel in his small victory for long, however, before he began his inquisition.

"I demand to know, this instant, what you said to Elizabeth that caused her to appear so distressed!"

"_Elizabeth, _is it? Delightful girl you have there, Darcy. Simply ravishing!"

Darcy inwardly cringed as he realized his misstep. In his anger, he had forgotten himself completely, and, of course, the indiscretion had not been lost on his wickedly astute companion.

"Indeed, old man, she is the very epitome of the term 'beddable.'" Wickham chuckled lecherously and quirked an eyebrow in Darcy's direction. "I don't suppose you might be convinced to share..."

Before he words could fully leave his mouth, they were cut short as Darcy's hands fisted in Wickham's shirt and his back connected forcefully with the wall. When Darcy finally found his voice, it was low and rough with anger.

"George Wickham, I have been very patient and generous with you over the years, because I had, at one time, thought of you as the son I was never given. But, that time is over. You have turned out to be the bitterest of disappointments. I know why you came here. You hoped to obtain some extra lining for your pockets from your poor old godfather, right? Well, not this time, Wickham! This time you have gone too far!"

By the end of his speech, Darcy's voice had risen drastically, until he was shouting in Wickham's frightened face. With a final vigorous shake, Darcy released Wickham's shirt, leaving the younger man standing, stunned, against the wall. Never before had he seen this kind of reaction from the usually long-suffering Darcy. Apparently he really had gone too far.

Before Wickham could gather his wits enough to react in any fashion to Darcy's words, the older man's finger was pointed in his face as Darcy continued to speak in an elevated voice.

"I have, in many instances, turned a blind eye to your dissolute ways! Your gambling, your drinking, and your whoring! I cannot, nor will I try to, change the way you choose to conduct yourself, but I loath the disparagement your wicked and idle ways have cast on my own good name. I am, at last, coming to my senses and seeing what I must do to be rid of the ungrateful baggage, that you have turned out to be, for good!"

Darcy turned and strode purposefully towards his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bundle of papers, taking the one on top and holding it up for Wickham to pursue.

"This," he explained, "is a collection of all your debts that I have purchased over the past several years, Wickham. It seems that you are in my debt just under four thousand pounds. I have more than sufficient evidence to send you to debtor's prison. You know it to be true."

Wickham was nearly shaking in his boots. If he had ever held even the slightest doubt of it before, now he was absolutely, unequivocally certain that he had pushed Darcy too far. Underneath the gallant and charming facade he showed the world, Wickham was, essentially, a coward. His bravado lasted only as long as his advantage did. He had underestimated his godfather, possibly with disastrous results.

Darcy saw the defeat written clearly on Wickham's face. He had him exactly where he needed him. He had been paying off Wickham's debts for years, and now, it seemed, his diligence was going to pay off for him. Perhaps the boy wasn't nearly as uncontrollable as he had begun to believe.

"Now," Darcy continued, "you will be escorted forthwith from the premises by two of my most trusted footmen. You will go quietly, or risk loosing the entirety of your allowance, which, by the way, I only continue to bestow upon you for your late father's sake. You will return immediately to London, where you will forget you ever saw a young lady in my garden. If I hear that there is any gossip in London, and I _will _ hear immediately if anything is being said, about the young lady you spoke with today, or about myself, I will have you put away. Have I made myself clear?"

For several moments, silence reigned in the study as the two gentlemen stared steadily into each other's eyes. Wickham had schooled his features into a reasonably haughty and defiant mask that was, by no means, how he truly felt. He was terrified, utterly terrified, of the power Darcy had over him. He feared losing his freedom more than anything else. Try as he might to find a way out, some other ax to hold over Darcy's head, he found nothing. If there was one thing he knew to be true of Darcy, it was that he was a man of his word. It would be too risky to presume the threat an idle one.

With a defiant lift of his chin, Wickham decided to surrender the field to his godfather, if only for the time being.

"Perfectly," he answered.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Gardenar was quite alarmed, upon entering Elizabeth's room, to find the young lady face down upon the bed in tears.<p>

"Lizzy, dear! Whatever is the matter?"

Elizabeth pulled herself into a sitting position and accepted her aunt's embrace and proffered handkerchief.

"Please, Aunt Madeline, I have no wish to discuss it. Give my regrets to Uncle and Mr. Darcy, but I am unwell and will not be down for supper."

Reminding herself to be patient with her independent niece, Mrs. Gardiner gently encouraged Elizabeth to open up to her.

"I can clearly see that you are unwell, dear. Will you not tell me what has happened?"

Elizabeth pulled out of her aunt's embrace and fought desperately to compose herself.

"No, Aunt, I have no wish to..."

"Elizabeth," Mrs. Gardiner interrupted, "I can see that something has happened to cause you a great deal of distress. I understand that you are a private person and prefer to keep your own confidence, but as your chaperone responsible for your safety on this trip, as well as your concerned aunt, I really must insist that you tell me what happened."

Elizabeth forced down the urge to become angry with Mrs. Gardiner. Her aunt meant well, and, as her current guardian, had a right to be assured that nothing terribly untoward had occurred. Still, she knew it would be a difficult topic to discuss. Her pride revolted at the idea that she would look a love-struck fool for allowing herself to hope for Mr. Darcy's attentions. She was humiliated, as well as heartbroken and desolate.

"Well, Aunt," she began, her composure tentatively in tact, "I have made the acquaintance of Mr. Darcy's godson, Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth paused to see what effect this intelligence had upon her aunt, who simply looked back at her, expectantly, and encouraged her to continue.

"He was most amiable. Quite charming, actually. I know he had no intention of upsetting me, but he...well, he told me some rather distressing things about Mr. Darcy."

"Like what, Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner pressed, her curiosity piqued.

Elizabeth's reserved manner dissolved into a torrent of emotion. The words began to pour from her mouth like water from a pitcher.

"Like that he is engaged..._has been_ engaged to be married to his late wife's niece these several years! Also, that he has treated his godson, the closest thing to a child of his own he has been granted, most abominably!"

Mrs. Gardiner took several deep breaths as she processed the information, allowing Elizabeth to continue unchallenged, for the moment. She knew, however, that something was not quite right about the information Elizabeth had been given.

"I cannot believe it of him, Aunt. I cannot have been so deceived about his character, his goodness. I would not, had I not heard it from the mouth of the person who is, most likely, the one who knows Mr. Darcy better than anyone else does!"

"Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner interjected. "Did you say you were told Mr. Darcy was engaged to his _niece_?"

"He is engaged to Miss de Burgh, so, yes, I suppose so."

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head in exasperation.

"Lizzy, you have obviously been told a hideous falsehood. A man may not legally marry his _niece_."

For several moments, Elizabeth stared blankly at her aunt as this intelligence sank into her emotion-clouded mind. Her aunt was right. Mr. Darcy and Miss de Burgh could not legally marry. Elizabeth would never claim any in-depth knowledge of the law, but surely she aught to have known _that._

"But, why would Mr. Darcy's own godson invent such a falsehood? What possible motive could he have?"

"Did you ever consider that this young man, who claimed to be Mr. Darcy's godson, might not be entirely trustworthy? That maybe he has some reason for wishing Mr. Darcy ill?"

Elizabeth was quick to shake her head, and answer, "no, aunt. Mr. Wickham spoke very fondly of his godfather. He gave me the impression that it is Mr. Darcy who is not fond of him. I am inclined to believe it, as I heard, with my own ears, the harsh way in which Mr. Darcy addressed Mr. Wickham. He seemed not at all pleased to see him. In fact, he seemed angry that he had come."

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head several times and sighed in exasperation. It was obvious that her niece hadn't thought critically about the situation as of yet. What was obvious to her was less clear to Elizabeth due to her limited experience of the world and insecurity about the soundness of Darcy's feelings for her.

Deciding that it would be best for Elizabeth to have time to regain her ability to reason before facing Mr. Darcy again, Mrs. Gardiner told her niece that she would be allowed to remain in her rooms for the evening.

"I will make your excuses to Mr. Darcy for tonight, Lizzy."

"Thank you, Aunt."

"I trust you will use this time to think seriously over what transpired today. I know you to be a bright, intelligent girl, my dear. It is time to put it to good use."

Taking Elizabeth's chin gently in her hand, Mrs. Gardiner continued to gently admonish her niece.

"Lizzy, you have lived a very sheltered life under your father's protection at his quiet, country estate. You know very little of the world, which is perfectly understandable, and expected, for a young gentlewoman. Please understand that there are people in this world who lie, and cheat, and manipulate others for their own selfish ends. People in Mr. Darcy's position are particularly targeted by those who would use his wealth and position to enrich themselves, and by those who would relish seeing misfortune befall him simply because they are envious of him."

Elizabeth studied the embroidered coverlet quietly as she listened to her aunt's words. Noting the pensive look on her niece's face, Mrs. Gardiner continued.

"The appearance of goodness does not equate to actual goodness, my dear. It seems very odd to me that this young man would divulge such personal information to someone with whom he had only just become acquainted; not to mention that a true gentleman would never have engaged a young woman in private conversation without a formal introduction. If this Mr. Wickham cared for his godfather, as you say he claimed to, why would he wish to speak anything but good of him to a perfect stranger? You know nothing of this man. You have known Mr. Darcy for several months, spent time in his company, and made the acquaintance of some of his relations. Not to mention, he has an excellent reputation as an upstanding gentleman. Even his housekeeper speaks his praises at each possible opportunity."

With that, Mrs. Gardiner rose to quite the room.

"Oh, and, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner added as she paused with her hand poised over the knob. "You will find that it is wise, in every instance, to obtain both sides of a story before making any judgements about either party. Dismissing Mr. Darcy on the basis of this young man's word alone would do neither of you any credit."

On that note, Mrs. Gardiner left the room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts.

* * *

><p>The supper hour found Elizabeth deep in thought. Once her torrent of emotion had passed, she realized that her aunt had been right, of course, about everything. Most importantly, that she ought to withhold judgement until she had the opportunity to hear Mr. Darcy's version of the events Mr. Wickham had related. Considering the fact that at least one aspect of Mr. Wickham's story could not be right, it wasn't difficult to come to the conclusion that it was possible that nothing he had told her was true.<p>

_Then again, _she thought, _just because Mr. Darcy cannot marry his niece does not mean he might not wish to... Rubbish! That is rubbish, Elizabeth! Must you continue to expect the worst? _

She was engaged in vigorous rubbing of her sore temples when the maid entered with her supper tray.

Elizabeth smiled in delight at the sight of a beautiful orchid plant, the one from which Mr. Darcy had plucked the bloom he had placed in her hair, sitting on the tray beside her plate. After the maid had been dismissed, she went immediately to the table. Seeing a small folded sheet of elegant stationary on the tray, she picked it up, and read the flowing script.

_My dear Miss Bennet, _

_I cannot begin to express how sorry I am that Wickham imposed upon you this afternoon. Your aunt was able to apprise me of some of what he told you, which, be assured, was completely false. The fact that you were caused such distress while you were in my own home gives me great pain, more than you know._

_Your aunt and uncle have kindly consented to allow me an hour's time alone in your company so that I may address any concerns you may still harbor. To that end, I would be deeply honored if you would consent to break your fast with me in the library tomorrow morning at the usual hour. I await your response with baited breath. _

_In the mean time, please accept this small gift as a token of my unwavering esteem and affection. _

_Sincerely, _

_George Darcy_

**One More A/N: **Ok, so Elizabeth's going to give Darcy a chance to explain about Wickham. That should be enough to hold the mob at bay for now, right? :)

I did think it would be too much of a stretch to have Elizabeth immediately suspect that Wickham was lying to her. Like our wise Aunt Gardiner said, Elizabeth has lived a very sheltered life in the country, and has had very little experience of the "real" world. Unlike the canon version, this Elizabeth has no reason to hold it against Darcy, and he will explain things immediately, so the situation will resolve much quicker.

So, have we seen the last of Wickham, or might he have more mischief up his sleeve? Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Thanks so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! You guys are awesome!

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><p>A new day brought a renewed sense of hope for Elizabeth, as well as for Darcy. Both had passed restless nights, though perhaps for slightly different reasons. Elizabeth's mind had refused to be quieted. The events of the afternoon played repeatedly across her thoughts as she tried to make sense of Mr. Wickham's actions, and, as each hour passed, was no closer to succeeding. She was also anxious to hear Darcy's side of the story. His note had filled her with hope, but also with even more questions. In the end, she was forced to concede that nothing would be accomplished by laying awake deliberating into the small hours of the morning, yet she was still unable to rest.<p>

Darcy paced across the carpet in his study until well after midnight planning what he was to say to Elizabeth the next morning. Never before had he been so angry with Wickham as he had been that evening. Darcy knew that, because of the unfortunate falsehoods his blackguard of a godson had told Elizabeth, he would have to divulge at least some part of his intentions and feelings to her, and he was not truly ready to do so. He knew his own heart, he was certain of that much. If he could yet be certain of hers, he would have no qualms about confessing the whole and begging her to become his. The conversation with Wickham had, in all likelihood, raised some questions in Elizabeth's mind regarding his intentions towards her. At any rate, the incident had served to make him realize that he ought to, at least, assure Elizabeth that his intentions were strictly honorable.

As much as he wished it possible, he could not yet be certain of Elizabeth's feelings. True, all signs seemed to point in the desirable direction. She had been nothing but kind and gracious towards him, always with a ready smile on her face, and always happy to accept his attentions. However, he knew Elizabeth to be amiable towards most everyone she met. He saw no sign of particular regard for him in her manner. If he had not been forced to speak, he certainly would not have chosen to do so at this point. As it was, he would divulge what little he could to smooth the situation over, and, hopefully, gain some clue as to her feelings that might make him feel more comfortable with the situation.

Despite their late nights, both awoke with the dawn, eager, though anxious, for their meeting and hopeful that the situation would soon be resolved to their mutual satisfaction. Darcy dressed quickly, and went out for his usual morning ride, hopeful that the fresh air and exercise would help him collect his thoughts for the important conversation to come. Elizabeth, feeling unequal to meeting Darcy before the appointed time, opted to remain in doors until the breakfast hour. She ordered a hot bath, and lingered in the rose-scented water for longer than was her usual want, allowing the warmth of the water to sooth her frayed nerves. After allowing the maid to assist her in dressing and styling her hair, she sat down by the window with a volume of poetry, though she did very little reading.

When the appointed hour finally arrived, she took a moment to collect herself before striding from the room in the direction of the library, ready for whatever the morning might bring.

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><p>Darcy made his way to the library a full quarter of an hour before the appointed meeting time to ensure everything was ready. He had ordered the seating area before the fire to be rearranged to make room for a small table and chairs on which their breakfast would be served. After ensuring the room was sufficiently warm for Elizabeth's comfort, and inspecting the breakfast selection provided to ensure the presence of all Elizabeth's favorites (which he had made special note of during the previous morning's repast) Darcy seated himself on the sofa to await her presence.<p>

Only then did it occur to Darcy that she might not accept his invitation. It was entirely possible that she would find his note too forward, his request too improper, and simply not appear. He really had been terribly forward, he knew. In his state of panic at the thought that Elizabeth might hold aught that Wickham had said against him, he had thrown propriety to the wind in order to show her the depths of his desire to make it right. He also had to admit that he had been encouraged by the fact that she was distressed by Wickham's lies. If she cared nothing for him, certainly she would not mind if he was engaged to Anne, or to anyone, for that mater. Now his heart was seized with sudden worry that Elizabeth wouldn't come and that he had already lost her forever.

It was in this frayed state that Elizabeth found him when she entered the library only moments later.

Immense relief was followed by stunned adoration for Elizabeth's etherial appearance in the morning light. She was dressed in a simple gown of pale yellow, her hair beautifully arranged in soft ringlets around her face and neck. For several moments, Darcy was able to do naught but stare, mouth agape, as Elizabeth returned his gaze with a questioning quirk of her brow and a small smile. Suddenly realizing how utterly daft he must appear to her, Darcy closed his mouth with an audible snap, and executed a hasty bow in her direction.

"Miss Elizabeth, I am immensely relieved that you have decided to join me. I realize that I was very forward in sending you that note last evening, but..."

"Mr. Darcy," she interrupted, "you needn't apologize. I did want to thank you for your gift of the orchid. It brightened my evening considerably."

Darcy smiled genuinely, breathing a relieved sigh.

"I am glad to hear it. Please, come." He gestured towards the table where their breakfast awaited.

They ate in silence for several minutes, each trying to decide what to say first. They had only an hour's time, and a great many things that needed saying, questions that needed answers. Deciding that time was too precious to waste on so mundane a task as eating, Darcy began.

"Miss Elizabeth, in order to better understand what transpired between you and my godson yesterday afternoon, I must first request that you tell me what it was he told you to cause you such distress. Mrs. Gardiner was so kind as to explain that part of it was some rubbish about me being engaged to my niece, Miss de Burgh. I was able to assure her of the utter falsehood of such a statement at once. She also mentioned something about other accusations that she couldn't explain. May I ask, what accusations were those?"

Elizabeth set down her fork, and studied the pattern of the carpet for several moments before answering.

"Mr. Darcy, I now feel terribly foolish for believing what he said about you and Miss de Burgh for even a moment. I can only plead a limited knowledge of the law as my excuse. Mr. Wickham said that you had promised him a church living, but gave it to another man instead. He also implied that you have been neglecting the connection for several years."

Darcy took several deep breaths to calm the tide of anger that rose at the mention of Wickham's prevarications. The man's depravity truly knew no bounds. That he would tell such twisted tales to a young woman he didn't even know...

"What I cannot understand," Elizabeth continued, " is why Mr. Wickham would speak to me of such personal matters at all. At first, I simply found him friendly and amiable, but after a good deal of reflection, it does seem quite odd."

"Miss Elizabeth, I believe that the only way to explain Wickham's motives is to divulge his history to you. In doing so, I fear I may offend your sensibilities somewhat, but it may be the only way."

At this, Elizabeth eyes flared with that delightful archness that Darcy had come to admire so in her.

"Fear not for my sensibilities, Sir. I am not so very delicate as some ladies of your acquaintance may be. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

Darcy laughed genuinely at her endearingly impertinent manner. Oh, how he loved her gumption! Elizabeth was unlike any lady he had ever known.

"I will keep that in mind, my dear," he laughingly replied. " First, I believe I owe you what explanation there is for his suggestion that Miss de Burgh and I are...romantically entangled."

Elizabeth nodded her head, encouraging him to continue.

"As you know, Lady Catherine is a woman who enjoys hearing the sound of her own voice a very great deal."

Darcy paused momentarily in his narration to enjoy the soft tinkling of Elizabeth's laughter, and to relish the sight of her glossy curls bobbing gently around her creamy skin as she moved. Wetting his suddenly-dry lips with his tongue, he went on.

"She once made a passing comment, in my godson's presence, that it was a shame I did not have a son who could marry Anne and join our two estates. Her next thought was that it was terribly inconvenient that the law forbade me marrying her myself. She even went so far as to suggest that her brother, Lord Matlock, propose a special bill in Parliament that would allow me to marry my niece."

Though she had witnessed, first hand, Lady Catherine's officious manner and propensity to say a great many things without a great deal of critical thought behind them, Elizabeth was duly shocked that she would say such preposterous things in the presence of those not in the immediate family. Really, that she would say such things at all!

"It was all meaningless prattle on my sister's part, of course. I never desired the match, nor did Anne, to my knowledge."

"So, am I to understand that Mr. Wickham took what Lady Catherine said as fact, or that he embellished the tale to make me think...to have me...actually believe him?"

Darcy took a deep, calming breath. It was time to move on to the uncomfortable portion of his history with Wickham, the part he would just as soon forget.

"Miss Elizabeth, I assure you that, whatever my godson has told you, it is he who is the cause of our estrangement, not I. I have loved him as a son for most of his life. Only recently, when I discovered his dissolute and conniving nature, did I begin to see that my faith and affection had been misplaced."

With that, Darcy launched into the tale of how he sent Wickham to Cambridge for a gentleman's eduction with every intention of having his godson take orders and the living at Kympton. He tried to explain the truth of Wickham's dissolute, debauched, licentious ways without being overly blunt. In the end, he felt that he had acquitted himself admirably, though the shocked expression on Elizabeth's face left him a little concerned.

"Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I had...absolutely no inkling of his underlying nature. He gave no indication of such base motives...Mr. Wickham appeared to be most amiable and good."

Rising from his seat, Darcy gently took Elizabeth's hand in his and led her over to the sofa. Seating himself beside her, perhaps a bit closer than was strictly proper, he continued to hold her hand in both of his as he sought to encourage her.

"My dear, you needn't feel badly for believing his lies. Wickham is a master at deceit. I myself have been duped by him far more times than I would care to remember."

"I simply feel very foolish, Mr. Darcy. I, who have prided myself on being an excellent judge of character."

"You couldn't have known, Miss Elizabeth. Wickham is a practiced liar, and that is all there is to it. Please, think no more of him."

Elizabeth was not so convinced that she could acquit herself of her shameful blindness to Wickham's true intentions, as well as her willingness to believe such things about Darcy, but she decided to put it out of her thoughts for the present. Turning towards Darcy, she gifted him with a radiant smile. Underneath her self-doubt and embarrassment, her heart was truly relieved that her faith in Darcy had not been misplaced. He was still the good man she had known him to be. In judging _his_ character, at least, it seemed she had been correct.

Darcy drew courage from her lovely smile as he steeled himself for what he knew he must now say. He must make sure that Elizabeth understood his intentions. He wanted no more misunderstandings to come between them, not when he felt he was making such excellent progress.

"Miss Elizabeth, there is one more thing I would discuss with you."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

"Well, you see, I...That is, I...you...and...drat!"

Darcy stood and began pacing the floor in frustration at his own clumsy tongue. He had had this portion of his speech perfectly planned, and now, at the crucial moment, his tongue was failing him miserably.

_You can do this, Darcy. For heaven's sake, you are a grown man, not a green lad! Stop prattling on like a fool and come out with it! _

Coming to a sudden stop in front of Elizabeth, Darcy forced his declaration out in one breath.

"Miss Elizabeth, your beauty, wit, and liveliness have enchanted me from nearly the first moment of our acquaintance. It is my intention to pay court to you, with the hope of gaining your affection, and, if I may hope to be so fortunate, your hand."

Having said his piece, Darcy gathered his courage anew to look upon Elizabeth's countenance to determine how his declaration at been received. The first thing he noticed was the delightful flush of her skin, from her décolletage to her delicate ears. She appeared shocked, though not unpleasantly so. As her eyes rose to meet his, a happy smile began to blossom on her sweet face, rendering her completely and utterly ravishing to his adoring eyes. The sparkle of joy in her fine eyes was nearly his undoing.

Seating himself, once again, by her side, Darcy gently gathered her small hands in his, allowing his thumbs to caress the soft skin of her fingers.

"Mr. Darcy, I...I..." Elizabeth paused to laugh at her uncharacteristic loss of articulation. "I am, for perhaps the first time in my life, rendered speechless."

For several moments, Elizabeth merely sat, enjoying the feelings his fingers stroking gently over hers provoked in her entire being. When, at last, she felt equal to the task, she spoke.

"Sir, I must admit that I was surprised by the sentiments you spoke of, but, I assure you they are most welcome."

"Dear, _dear, _Miss Elizabeth," Darcy whispered reverently, as he bent to press kisses on each of her captive hands.

Elizabeth gasped at the delightful feel of his soft lips touching her bare skin. Several gentlemen had kissed her hand in the past, but never had it felt so almost intolerably intimate.

Turning her hands over, Darcy begun paying homage to her palms and fragile wrists when the clock chimed the hour, signaling the end of their allotted time.

"We must rejoin your aunt and uncle now, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said, regretfully.

"Yes, I believe we must," Elizabeth agreed, equally loathe to end the tender moment that had been the answer to all her wishes, and the end of most of her worries.

Accepting Darcy's proffered arm, Elizabeth allowed herself to be led from the library towards the parlor where they were to meet Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner before embarking on the morning's outing.

_So, how did our dear boy do? The unofficial courtship begins next time! _


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Sorry it's a bit late! I try to post every weekend, but I got caught up watching season 2 of Downton Abbey on amazon instant video. *sigh*

Anyway, it's the first day of the rest of D & E's lives! Let's see if Darcy can polish up his old wooing skills and sweep Elizabeth off her feet. ;)

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><p>"<em>One shade the more, one ray the less,<em>

_Had half impair'd the nameless grace_

_Which waves in every raven tress,_

_Or softly lightens o'er her face;_

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express_

_How pure, how dear their dwelling-place."_

Elizabeth leaned back on her hands, her face turned towards the warm light of the sun as she listened raptly to Darcy's smooth baritone as he read aloud to her.

It was another perfect summer day. Once again, the Gardiners had allowed their niece a few moments alone, or almost alone, in her new suitor's company. Darcy had planned another picnic luncheon for the party, this time amongst the rose bushes in the formal garden. After the meal was consumed, the Gardiners had, as previously arranged, departed to take a stroll down towards the lake, giving the blossoming couple a few moments of partial privacy.

Darcy had taken the opportunity to fulfill his promise to read some of Byron's verses to Elizabeth. He had even worked up the courage to read her the particular poem that so reminded him of her that he had nearly memorized it during their long separation.

"_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,_

_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,_

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow,_

_But tell of days in goodness spent,_

_A mind at peace with all below,_

_A heart whose love is innocent!" *_

"How beautiful," Elizabeth mused as Darcy lay the book aside.

"Yes, _very _beautiful," Darcy whispered meaningfully, his eyes searching for Elizabeth's under the rim of her bonnet.

The double-meaning behind his words was not lost on Elizabeth, who, being not so very used to receiving a man's particular attentions that she could bear them with complete equanimity, searched her mind for a more neutral direction in which to steer the conversation. Finding nothing, she remained silent. Her powers of speech were further hindered when Darcy captured her hand in his, and she felt the caress of his warm lips against her wrist.

It amazed Elizabeth that Darcy could find so much to appreciate about the small sliver of bare skin between her glove and her sleeve. She had never thought of that particular part of her anatomy as holding any special allure or...well, anything special at all. Darcy, however, seemed to relish every opportunity to plant teasing little kisses along the surprisingly sensitive skin under which her pulse throbbed (rather faster than usual, of late). The sensation seemed to, curiously, spread like warm water through the veins of her wrist straight to somewhere deep within her belly, causing her to squirm in something akin to discomfort.

Darcy watched her reaction to his touch with eager fascination. She was so beautiful when the delightful pink tones in her skin deepened and spread and her hazel eyes darkened with newly-awakened desire. He failed to suppress a self-satisfied smirk as he noted the slight shift of her hips and the thrum of her pulse under his lips. Even in his younger days, Darcy had never considered himself a charmer, by any means, but he allowed that he had been doing an admirable job, thus far, of wooing Elizabeth.

"Have you ever been abroad, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy was taken by surprise by Elizabeth's question. He had been rather absorbed in his ruminations regarding Elizabeth's apparent affectation.

"I beg your pardon, my dear. I was...distracted."

Elizabeth smiled indulgently at Darcy before repeating her question.

"I have," he answered simply. "If I may ask, what is it that provoked your curiosity regarding my past travels, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I was just thinking that, since you are courting me now, - unofficially, of course - we should make an effort to learn more about each other. It seemed as reasonable a place to begin as any."

Darcy chuckled openly at her delightfulness. She truly had no idea what she did to him with her unaffected sweetness!

"Will you not tell me about all the places you've been?" she pressed gently. She was beginning to understand that Darcy was the rare type of man who did not care to talk about himself. She thought it one of his most admirable traits. However, when she did wish for him to speak of himself, it often meant that some encouragement was required on her part to loosen his tongue.

"Well," Darcy began, "I first toured the continent after I graduated from Cambridge, and then once more the year after...after my wife passed."

Both looked down uncomfortably at the mention of Darcy's late wife. Elizabeth had to repeatedly repress the urge to be jealous of the woman who had first held Darcy's affections. She knew she was wrong to think thus, but seemed unable to quell the emotion.

Darcy disliked mentioning Anne to Elizabeth for the simple reason that he was supposed to be courting _her_, and the mention of his previous wife seemed to put a wedge of awkwardness between them that he couldn't like. He wished he had thought before he spoke and left the timing out of his answer to her question, but it couldn't be helped now. He had taken that trip as a way to distract himself from his grief, with limited success.

Elizabeth's next question caught him even more off guard than the previous one had.

"Do you miss her terribly, still?" He voice was quiet and controlled to hide the threatening emotion behind her calm exterior.

Darcy didn't have to think long before answering.

"Not very much, no. Not anymore."

For several moments, silence prevailed. Darcy felt terrible for bringing up the uncomfortable subject, and Elizabeth felt equally awful for asking such a direct personal question. She wasn't sure that their unofficial courtship gave her the right to pry into his private concerns.

After several deep breaths, Darcy reached, once again, for Elizabeth's hand. He strove to get his thoughts into some semblance of order, hoping that his tongue wouldn't fail him now. Elizabeth was clearly disturbed and in need of his assurances.

"Elizabeth..._Miss _Elizabeth, forgive me," he began. "I assure you that I would not have asked to court you, or any woman, if I was not able to give my whole self, unreservedly, and without any previous attachment remaining. I loved Anne, yes, but she has been gone these eight and twenty years. I was practically a different man then."

Shifting his position closer to Elizabeth's, Darcy allowed his fingers to gently trace the curve of her jaw, down to her sweetly pointed chin. Her skin was so impossibly soft, it nearly robbed him of all ability to speak.

"The man I am today, Elizabeth, wishes to be with you."

Elizabeth smiled serenely as she took in his bold declaration. For a man not given to verbosity, he always seemed to find the precise words necessary to quiet her insecurities and assure her of his regard. He was bold, without being inappropriate. Forthrightness had always been a trait Elizabeth valued in others, and she appreciated Darcy's dedication to speaking the truth without being overly forward or overly cryptic. It made her much more able to relax and simply enjoy his presence.

Darcy was becoming more convinced of Elizabeth's genuine affection for him with each moment he spent in her company. If only he could hear the words from her sweet lips, his joy would be complete. She was a lady, however, and deserved to be given proof of his unwavering devotion before she could be expected to hand over her heart completely. He sensed that she appreciated his honesty in regards to his feelings, and was sure that she would reciprocate when the time was right. Patience was, perhaps, not his strongest virtue, but he understood that some things were worth waiting for. Elizabeth was certainly one of them.

It had not escaped Elizabeth's notice that Darcy was exercising a great deal of courage in expressing his feelings to her without disguise when she had done so little to reciprocate. Perhaps if she felt less, she might have said more, but her heart was still too vulnerable to allow for much freedom of expression when it came to her deepest feelings. The truth that Mr. Darcy had yet to meet her family was ever-present in the back of her mind. She felt that she was somehow cheating him, allowing him to pay court to her, to open his heart to her, before he had seen the complete picture of what having her as his wife would entail.

Forcing her thoughts to take a more positive turn, Elizabeth turned her eyes back towards Darcy's face. He was so wonderfully handsome. Today he looked especially so. He had neglected to shave that morning, and Elizabeth found the slight silvery growth surprisingly attractive. She reached out with tentative fingers to touch the light shadow that framed his strong jaw, enjoying the roughness against her fingertips.

Not once since making her acquaintance had Darcy been so desperately tempted to kiss Elizabeth as he was the moment her fingers lightly stroked over his cheek and jaw. His heart raced wildly at this first tangible sign of affection she had offered him. It they had, at the moment, the blessing of complete solitude, he might have given in to his desires and claimed Elizabeth's lips with his. They were not completely alone, however. He could see Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner walking together in the distance. The most he could dare was to press his face into her palm momentarily before capturing her hand with his for yet another feathery kiss to her wrist. He adored her delicate hands, he truly did. But he looked forward, with restless anticipation, to the day when he could claim the privilege of kissing her full lips, her temples, those glossy curls, the ivory column of her tempting neck...

All that would have to wait for another time, and another place.

Pulling himself to his feet, Darcy extended his hand to assist Elizabeth in standing. He offered his arm, which she immediately accepted, and the pair made their way towards the pond to join the Gardiners.

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><p>A lonely widow meant a warm bed for the night, as well as at least one meal and several drinks, and all for only the price of an hour or so of dedicated attention to the woman's pleasure. Wickham had selected Bertha Young as his meal ticket du jour upon his return to London from his ill-fated sojourn to Pemberley. She was not the most attractive, or the wealthiest, of the lovelorn women in his rotation, but she was, arguably, the most desperate, therefore the most pliable.<p>

Though the insatiable woman had demanded a great deal more of his time and energy than usual that night, Wickham reclined in bed beside her sleeping form feeling that he could not possibly have chosen his refuge better. His luck had deserted him where his godfather was concerned, but it had returned to him in the form of the sheltered young lady his bedmate was set to become companion to in the coming week. A wealthy young heiress, but sixteen years of age, with twenty thousand pounds to her name and residing in her own establishment without the constant supervision of her father or brothers. It seemed the perfect solution to his pecuniary difficulties.

Like Wickham, Mrs. Young was an unscrupulous type, willing to do nearly anything for financial gain. The promise of three thousand pounds and the position of his mistress, neither of which he had any intention of keeping, had been sufficient to secure her assistance in meeting and wooing the chit without the interference of her relations. A girl so young and impressionable should easily be convinced to elope with a handsome, charming gentleman who claimed passionate attachment to her. He had yet to come across any person of the female sex who did not show at least some degree of susceptibility to his charms. There was no doubt in his mind that his scheme would succeed and the twenty thousand pounds, and possibly more, would be his.

_Probably more than I would ever have been able to milk out of Darcy in a decade. Besides, a comely young lady will certainly be more enjoyable to deal with than that ornery old sourpuss. A very great deal more enjoyable. _

A licentious smile spread over Wickham's face as he pondered this new turn in his prospects. He was nothing if not resourceful. He would live for free, or nearly free, while he put his plan into action. When he succeeded, as he had no doubt that he would, he would have wealth beyond most men's imaginings. Not Wickham's, however. When it came to the subject of money, he could imagine quite a bit.

_*from Byron's poem, "She Walks in Beauty." I used part of the first stanza in chapter 3._

Well, despite a slight change in circumstances, Wickham is still Wickham. At least he's leaving Darcy alone, for the time being. See ya' next time!


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Here's another shortish chapter for you. It may be short, but something momentous takes place which I hope will make up for the brevity of the post! I will, once again, thank everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited! You light up my life! Seriously. :)

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><p>One the third morning of her stay at Pemberley, Darcy asked Elizabeth if she considered herself an accomplished rider.<p>

"Heavens, no!" was her enthusiastic response. "I much prefer my own two feet as a method of transportation."

"If you would like, I would be glad to give you a lesson," Darcy offered.

"That's very kind of you," Elizabeth demurred, "but I'm afraid I wouldn't be a terribly stellar pupil. I must admit, horses rather intimidate me."

"I seem to recall you informing me, not two days past, that your courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate you."

Elizabeth glowered at Darcy in mock indignation. The gentleman only chuckled to himself, feeling rather smug for having gotten the better of Elizabeth, something he knew was no easy task, and he would probably pay for it later.

In lieu of the unwanted riding lesson, Darcy offered to accompany Elizabeth on her morning walk.

"I have very fond memories of our walks at Rosings," he mused. "It is a tradition I believe to be very much worth upholding."

Nodding her head in agreement, Elizabeth allowed Darcy to lead her from the breakfast room into the foyer to collect their outerwear.

Darcy was thanking his lucky stars that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner hadn't risen as early as he and Elizabeth had, thus granting them additional private time. As they meandered silently around the side of the house into the spacious park, he pondered how right it felt to have her here, in his home, on his arm. He wanted to keep her always there with him, until the end of his days.

He would have been overjoyed if he could have known that Elizabeth's thoughts followed very much the same line as his. In the few short days of her visit, she had become very attached to Pemberley, as well as its owner. One could not completely separate the one from the other. Darcy's good taste and easy dignity were evident in both the appearance and atmosphere of the estate; and the deep, inborn pride he had had in his ancestral home since he was a boy had helped shape Darcy into the responsible and capable man that he was. Elizabeth could easily picture herself ten years into the future doing very much the same thing she was at that moment: strolling the lovely grounds on the arm of her handsome husband.

_Not yet, Lizzy! He hasn't even met Mama!_

Elizabeth's mental reprimand was accompanied by a visible darkening of her previously cheerful countenance. Darcy couldn't fail to take notice.

"Is anything the matter, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's initial instinct was to prevaricate, but she immediately stopped the denial from leaving her lips. Dishonestly would do neither of them any good, and it was, perhaps, better that Darcy learn sooner, rather than later, about her family's embarrassing tendencies.

"To be quite honest, sir, I am a bit nervous about introducing you to my family next week."

"Have you written them to let them know to expect my call?" Darcy asked.

"No, I haven't," Elizabeth answered. She hadn't yet written to her family, not even to Jane, about her relationship with Darcy. Somehow, it did not yet seem real. And, of course, she dreaded the moment her mother found out she had a suitor, let alone a wealthy one. Perhaps it would be better to break the news as early before they traveled to Longborne as possible, to allow Mrs. Bennet to exhaust the worst of her effusions before Darcy was subjected to them. There could be little hope, however, that his appearance wouldn't bring on a fresh round of flutterings and spasms.

Elizabeth decided to write to her father, as well as to Jane, as soon as they returned to the house.

_At that rate, the gossip will have spread to every home in Meryton days before he even arrives._

Elizabeth sighed to herself. If Darcy's affections could survive her family's embarrassing tendencies, then he was truly a prince amongst men. At least she could fell confident that Darcy and her father would get on well. They had several things in common, a love of books being the most predominant. If her father could but see Pemberley's library, Darcy would have a devoted friend for life. Jane was also a credit to the family. Her gentle disposition and impeccable manners would go a long way towards assuring that Mr. Darcy felt welcomed rather than assaulted. And then there was Charles with his easy good nature and friendly disposition. He was a credit to her family, as well. Her mother and younger sisters were sure to be a bit much for Darcy, though. For a man used to living alone, all the noise and activity would surely be a shock. The fact that her father couldn't be bothered to check the wild behavior of her younger sisters and the inappropriate ramblings of her mother was unfortunate, for it meant that she would be often occupied with the job herself, leaving her unable to attend her beau as she would like to.

Deciding to make the most of her time at Pemberley while it lasted, Elizabeth tightened her grip on Darcy's arm and smiled warmly up at him. He would find out about her family soon enough - a great deal too soon, in fact. For the time being, he wanted to be with her. If this was all the time they were to be given, she would take full advantage.

To that end, Elizabeth pushed up on her toes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. Blushing furiously, she immediately turned her face away, hoping the rim of her bonnet hid her bashful grin.

Darcy's look of surprise quickly altered into one of delight as he felt Elizabeth's soft lips, for only a fleeting moment, touch his cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked kindly, placing his free hand over his where it rested on his arm.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and answered as nonchalantly as she could.

"Well, it wouldn't do for me to kiss _your_ wrist, now would it?"

Darcy grinned knowingly at her smooth evasion of his question. The thought that she had simply wished to show him some affection pleased him very well. It certainly seemed to be the case. Feeling suddenly more confident than he had all week, Darcy steered them out of sight of the house. After only a few moments, they found themselves completely alone, hidden from view by the hedgerows and several large trees.

Needing to act quickly before his courage, once again, deserted him, Darcy stopped walking and took both of Elizabeth's hands in his to turn her towards him. With shaking fingers, he untied the ribbons of her bonnet, then gently pulled it from her head, allowing her sweet chestnut curls to spring free. He held her bonnet in one hand, and brought the other hand up to gently cup her face.

Elizabeth's breath was coming in shallow gasps. Surely he could only mean one thing by removing her bonnet and touching her face in so familiar a manner. She had longed for this moment, but, as is often the case, now that it was upon her she could scarcely enjoy it for the trembling in her limbs. She _did_ want him to kiss her. That small peck she had given him had been a hint, no matter how she would like to deny it. Willing herself to focus on breathing in, then out again, Elizabeth awaited his touch.

Darcy's gaze was fixed on her lips, watching raptly as they parted under his inspection. He could do it. She was clearly willing to permit him this new liberty. Perhaps, in a way, she had even asked for it. But, not for the first time, he allowed doubts to assail his mind. Doubts about his ability to please Elizabeth, to be all that she deserved. Could he please such a spirited young lady...as a lover? Was it right for him to steal what was, in all likelihood, her first kiss, still not knowing if he could truly give her all she deserved?

Then he remembered her sweetness, the gentle squeeze of her hand on his arm, and the fleeting caress of her lips on his cheek. She was watching him expectantly with hooded eyes. He couldn't very well withdraw at that point.

_Courage, man. _

Forcing his feet to carry him a half-step closer, he tilted her face towards him with his thumb under her chin. He watched her eyes flutter closed before leaning closer, ever so gently allowing his lips to brush against her lovely soft ones. He kissed her very lightly at first, then with a bit more pressure as his confidence grew. She hadn't pulled away. Surely that was a good sign.

The feel of his lips on hers was completely foreign, yet infinitely lovely. Elizabeth could scarcely move at all, so powerful were the feelings coursing through her. All she could seem to do was stand still, willingly offering her lips for his tender attentions.

Darcy kissed her several more times, gently, lightly. Then he carefully took her full lower lip between his and sucked very slightly, allowing his tongue to trace the length of its softness. He tasted peppermint candy and a flavor that must be Elizabeth's own unique essence. He felt her breath caress his face as she gasped slightly in surprise at his boldness. No doubt, he had shocked her sufficiently for one day, and should now return her to the house.

So, Darcy withdrew, watching in mute appreciation of her beauty as Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, and her tongue darted out over her lips. He wondered if she could taste him on them. The thought evoked urges best suppressed for the time being. Carefully, Darcy replaced Elizabeth's bonnet and watched, still silent, as she tied the ribbons under her chin.

The pair still remained silent as they walked arm in arm back through the garden towards the house, both lost in thoughts of what had passed between them. Only once did they stop for Darcy to carefully pluck a rose from one of the many bushes. He quickly removed the thorns before handing it to Elizabeth, who thanked him with a sweet smile, still too affected to speak.

Breakfast with the Gardiners was pleasant, as always, though Darcy and Elizabeth continued to glance distractedly in each other's direction from time to time. If Elizabeth's relations noticed anything out of the ordinary, they kept it to themselves. After finishing their repast, the party separated to pursue their own activities until luncheon. Before departing for his study, Darcy gently took Elizabeth's hand in his and raised it to his lips for the usual caress. Though he had kissed her thus several times, it felt impossibly more intimate after what had transpired that morning. Elizabeth managed to murmur a parting word or two, though, if asked afterwords, she wouldn't have remembered what she had said.

Acting on her earlier resolve, Elizabeth retired to the privacy of her rooms to compose her letter to Jane. She would write to her father later that evening. Her current state of mind would allow only for the kind of writing she could share with her dearest sister. Papa would have to wait until she was in better command of her feelings.

_Dearest Jane, _she began.

_You must think me terribly remiss in not writing to you of my sojourn in the north until now, but so very much has happened in so short a time that I have scarcely had time to reflect. The Peak District is just as lovely as I imagined, if not even more so. I have enjoyed everything we've seen immensely, but, sweet Jane, the beauty of my surroundings pales in comparison to the news I have to share with you. _

_Do you remember, when I returned from Kent last spring, I told you of a man I met there named Mr. Darcy? I know I hardly mentioned him at all, but I believe I, at least, managed to divulge that I liked him very well and enjoyed several lively debates with him on various subjects that would bore you to tears, my dear Jane. Of course, you must be wondering why I mention him. The short answer is that I am currently staying at his estate. When we first came to tour Pemberley (is it not a lovely name for a country home?) we were told that Mr. Darcy was not at home. Fate must have had plans for us, however, because Mr. Darcy arrived home while I was trespassing in the private, family gardens! _

_We were both quite happy to renew the acquaintance. I am infinitely pleased with how kind and welcoming he has been to Aunt and Uncle. He invited us to stay at Pemberley for the week, and it has been simply wonderful. Mr. Darcy has dedicated a good deal of his time each day to our amusement. He really is a most charming host. _

_I am not sure that I mentioned it before, Jane, but Mr. Darcy is quite the handsomest gentleman I have ever met. He is uncommonly tall with dark hair and eyes, and a pleasing, noble bearing. He is also kind, amiable, and very intelligent. He can be a bit taciturn at times, but I see it as a mark of wisdom that he ensures that he has something worth saying before he speaks. I wish very much for you to meet him, and you shall, dearest Jane, very soon! _

_He has asked to court me, Jane! I can scarcely believe my good fortune. Mr. Darcy is, in disposition and talents, the man who will suit me best of all. He will come to Longborne, shortly after I return, to speak with Papa. What happens next, I try not to think too much about. I know you cannot be always there, dearest, but I beg you to try all you can to help me keep Mama, Kitty, and Lydia under control while he is visiting. I am so happy! So deliriously, wonderfully happy! And I am so afraid that he will be made terribly uncomfortable by their silliness. Mr. Darcy has lived alone for many years, and is unused to all the noise and activity that surrounds our home. If you can be of any assistance at all, I would be forever in your debt! _

_Give my love to Charles and little Baby, whom I very much look forward to meeting in a few months' time. I hope you are all well and content at Netherfield. I shall see you soon. _

_Your affectionate sister, _

_Elizabeth_

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><p><em>Well, you couldn't very well expect Elizabeth's first kiss, and Darcy's first kiss in thirty years, to be all fireworks and no awkwardness, now could you? ;) <em>

_Next time, ODC reflect on the new development in their relationship, and, if you're very lucky, maybe even repeat it. See ya' next time! _


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Well, here we are at the first milestone chapter. Double digits now! And this is now the longest fic I have written, and still so much more to go! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed. You make my day!

I would also like to apologize for the slight lateness of this installment. I've been a bit under the weather this weekend. Not to worry, just the usual spring hay fever. As much as I love flowers, they really do make me terribly ill.

I also had a bit of a debate with myself about where I wanted to go with this chapter. It may be a bit controversial to Austin purists (who probably aren't reading this anyway, come to think of it) and those who are sticklers for propriety, but in my humble opinion, people have always been people and chemistry has always been chemistry. You'll understand that when you read the chapter.

Enjoy!

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><p>After sealing her letter to Jane and setting it aside to leave with the next day's post, Elizabeth sat quietly for several minutes reliving the moment Mr. Darcy's lips had touched hers over and over in her memory. How wonderful it had been! The feeling had been strange at first, different than she had expected, but profoundly beautiful nonetheless.<p>

She closed her eyes and recalled each detail purposefully, trying to remember each new and exciting sensation she had experienced - and there were several. Shock being one of the most predominant, and mainly aimed at her own unladylike thoughts.

She had scandalized herself with her own thoughts.

_How silly of me. _

She laughed in nervous delight at the delicious _newness_ of it all. Mr. Darcy's deft fingers loosening the ribbons under her chin, lifting her bonnet from her head...Her mind had conjured a titillating picture of those same fingers working the strings of her corset, the ribbons of her evening slippers that laced up her calves, her garters...

_How, in heaven's name, did I come by such indelicate thoughts? Of course, they were silly nonsense, anyway. Just imagine, Mr. Darcy performing the office of lady's maid. Surely not! _

Her thoughts moved on to less scandalous, though probably equally improper, musings. Warmth had radiated from his strong form, so close to hers - closer than they had ever been. His hands were warm and gentle against her skin, but she could sense their controlled strength in his caress. She wished she could better recall the feel of his lips against hers. The first several kisses had been so light, so fleeting, that she hadn't had time to take it all in. She could, however, distinctly remember the feeling his slick, hot tongue against her skin caused, and it wasn't so much in her lip as...somewhere she was sure it would be unseemly to acknowledge.

All at once, it occurred to Elizabeth that, while she had quite willingly accepted Mr. Darcy's attentions, she hadn't made any move at all to reciprocate them. She hadn't kissed him back. Her hands had remained by her sides. Not a word had been spoken between them afterwords. She desperately wished she could have the moment back so that she could take better advantage of it. How dearly she hoped that her unresponsiveness hadn't discouraged him! It was merely her nervousness and surprise that had caused her to lose the ability to command her faculties.

Her heart clinched painfully, and she stood and commenced pacing the length of the small sitting room. The need to _do_ something about what troubled her overwhelmed Elizabeth. She had always been a creature of action, not long able to allow things that concerned her to rest unaddressed.

Her resolution formed, she strode from the room, a smile of joy and anticipation dimpling her cheeks becomingly.

* * *

><p>Darcy had been seated behind his desk for almost an hour when he realized he hadn't actually accomplished anything. Taking the top letter from the stack of correspondence that needed attending, he opened it, resolving to put thoughts of Elizabeth temporarily aside so that he could get some work done. Of course, it was a wasted effort. After what had happened between them that morning, he could think of nothing else.<p>

He had been mulling over the sweet taste of Elizabeth's lips when a most distressing realization intruded on his felicity. She hadn't actually kissed him back, or responded in any way, really. She hadn't even said a word to him afterwords. She had smiled sweetly, as she always did, but he had no real indication of what her feelings about the kiss itself were. He became dreadfully worried that she had only been tolerating his touch, rather than wanting it. His heart sank at the thought that he might not be able to awaken her passion.

He would have to let her go. She deserved to have passion and desire in her life. If he couldn't give her that, then he would have to allow her to find someone who could.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his dismal thoughts. Probably the butler with a message for him, or perhaps his steward.

"Come," he answered without looking up from the letter that sat, unread, on his desk before him.

He heard the door open, then close again, but nothing more.

_Odd._

When he looked to see who the silent intruder was, he was stunned to find none other than Elizabeth standing before him, her hand still resting on the knob. Her color was high, and she wore a disarming smirk that could only be described as mischievous. The truth was, Elizabeth thought that sneaking down the corridor to Mr. Darcy's study, ducking into alcoves and empty rooms to avoid the notice of servants along the way, on an entirely improper mission, had been a terribly devious, and strangely thrilling, experience.

After the initial shock had passed, Darcy stood and bowed hastily in acknowledgment of her presence.

"Miss Elizabeth, what a surprise," he mumbled distractedly. Realizing that he was improperly attired (his coat was usually discarded when alone) he reached behind him to collect it. Elizabeth's hand on his arm stayed him.

"Mr. Darcy, I do hope I'm not intruding." There was a strange energy in her voice, and it appealed to his ears immensely.

"Never. You could never intrude, Elizabeth," he answered, suddenly made breathless by her unexpected proximity.

"You see, Sir," she began, "I have come to correct a grievous oversight."

"An oversight, you say?" Darcy was confused, but intrigued, by her, as he often was. She could be such a mystery. Such a delightful, perplexing, captivating mystery.

Elizabeth merely nodded her head in answer to his question. Mustering her courage, she placed her hands lightly on his chest, stroking gently over the firmness of it. His surprised gasp made her smile with wicked enjoyment. While one hand remained in its place on his chest, the other slid slowly up over his shoulder and neck, ending up tangled in his thick curls.

Standing as high as she could on her toes - for Darcy really was a very tall man - Elizabeth pulled him firmly towards her, pressing her lips eagerly to his.

Shocked though he was, Darcy quickly responded to Elizabeth's kiss. His hands wrapped around her trim waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepening the kiss.

It was perfect, so utterly perfect! Elizabeth was holding him close to her, one hand gripping the hair at his nape almost painfully. Her lips were eager and insistent against his, her tongue shy as it darted carefully out to taste his lips, as he had tasted hers earlier. Fire shot through Darcy's veins as his tongue boldly emerged to meet hers. The sensation caused them both to moan aloud.

There it was! The passion, the fire! She wanted him. There was no possible way she could have made that more abundantly clear, and the knowledge overwhelmed all rational thought or sense of propriety. Oh, God, she was so passionate, so sensual and responsive in his arms! Gone where all thoughts of releasing her. He would never get enough of her, never. He would have to live to be a hundred, maybe even older, to even come close to having enough of her.

The knowledge was a heady intoxicant indeed. Darcy pressed closer against her, causing her to step backwards until her hips met the edge of his desk. One of her hands moved behind her to grip the smooth, polished surface in hopes of steadying herself, but soon returned to its preferred place on Darcy's person.

He had fantasized about this so many times, of making love to her on this very desk. He would someday. Not just then, but _someday_ he was now sure that he would. The reality of her passion was all he could ever have dreamt and more. Leaning further over her, he boldly explored her warm mouth with his tongue. He had never kissed any woman like that before. Elizabeth responded in kind, and it was absolutely glorious. His hands drifted down her sides to trace the swell of her hips. How perfect her feminine shape was to him! All rounded and soft and pliant. _His._ She was his, and he would never let her go.

* * *

><p>Late that night, Elizabeth lay awake for several hours, the events of the day playing over and over in her mind. Joy and anticipation mingled with worry and even a twinge of fear. Her moment of stolen passion with Darcy had been an eye opening experience, to say the least. Never before had she known, or even imagined, such need. How was it that he had such power over her? In one look, one touch, he had the power to make her forget everything she had been taught, and everything she knew, throw propriety to the wind, and behave like a complete wanton. Even more perplexing, was her inability to truly regret what had transpired. How could she when it had been so wonderful, and she loved him se very dearly?<p>

They had been caught up in each other for a mere minute when the sound of a maid's heels clicking down the marble floor outside the study door had caused them to jump apart. Darcy, immediately horrified by his loss of control, crossed the room in three long strides, and carefully opened the door only enough to ensure that they were not about to be happened upon. Closing it softly behind him, he secured the lock. It wasn't completely unusual for him to lock the door and refuse to admit anyone for any reason when immersed in a particularly pressing matter of business. Such a measure would not cause undue speculation.

Slowly, he strode back to where Elizabeth stood, stunned by the sensations still overwhelming her faculties. He gave her his most apologetic glance, taking her hand carefully in his as though he were afraid of crushing it in his grasp. Motioning towards a chair near the fireplace, he encouraged her to be seated. Taking the chair beside hers, and refusing to relinquish the trembling, white hand he held, Darcy began,

"Elizabeth, darling, I must beg your forgiveness for my appalling lack of self-command. I should never have taken such liberties with you before I have had the opportunity to speak with your father regarding my intentions. I would like to reassure you that my intentions are strictly honorable. I intend to make you an offer of marriage as soon as I may reasonably do so. Meaning, after I have had to opportunity to discuss the prospect with your father, make the acquaintance of your family, and so forth. Until then, it is probably best that we refrain from...expressing our affection so openly. It's my fault. I should never have presumed to kiss you this morning in the garden. I cannot say I regret it, but I still know I shouldn't have done it."

Elizabeth nodded her head woodenly in response, the thought that his proposal was delayed until after meeting her family adding greatly to her disquiet.

"Sir, you mustn't take all the blame for our lapse upon yourself. _I_ should never have presumed to..."

"You have done nothing wrong, Elizabeth," Darcy interrupted. "I refuse to allow you to apologize for actions that have made me the happiest of men. The very thought that I can stir such incredible passion in you...from this moment, until I draw my final breath, it shall be the reason I get out of bed each morning. I mean it, Elizabeth."

His eyes were full of emotion as they bored into hers. Once again, he was expressing powerful sentiments she knew not how to reciprocate. She smiled to herself at the notion that she did, now, have a way in which she could communicate her feelings to him without using any words at all.

Rising from her seat, she positioned herself in front of Darcy's chair, cupping his face in her hands before he could rise. She stroked his stubbled cheeks with her thumbs for a few moments before leaning slowly down to press a delicate, chaste kiss to his lips. Darcy passively allowed her kiss, realizing it was, in leu of words, an acceptance of all he had expressed, as well as an acknowledgement of her own feelings for him. Cupping her elbows in his hands, he responded gently for only a moment before rising and leading her towards the door.

He was careful to ensure that Elizabeth could escape unnoticed before motioning her out into the corridor. She returned to her chambers without incident. For the remainder of the day, Elizabeth was kept busy with the task of simply retaining her composure. She was sure that her earlier activities must be written all over her face. Her aunt had even directed several questioning looks her way over the dinner table that evening, causing her to squirm in her chair.

Elizabeth worried that her aunt would start asking questions she wasn't sure how to answer. This new worry, however, distracted Elizabeth from the sickening dread of Darcy's impending visit to Longbourn. In less than a week, he would meet her family. She could only pray that their heated moment in the study would be only the first of many, rather than the one memory of passion she would hold onto after her family's lack of decorum caused her to lose him forever.


	12. Chapter 11

__**A/N:** A big thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed the last chapter! Now, let's check in at Longbourn...

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><p><em>Meanwhile, at Longbourn...<em>

"Jane, dear, would you mind joining me in my book room for a few moments. There is something about which we must speak."

"Of course, Papa."

Once ensconced in Mr. Bennets small library, Jane Bingley sat quietly in anticipation of her father's questions, fairly certain of what the topic of the day would be: Elizabeth's mysterious new suitor.

"Well, Jane, it seems your sister has obtained for herself a rather prestigious admirer. My brother Gardiner has written to inform me of the gentleman's intentions, as well as of his temporary permission for this Mr. Darcy to begin courting Elizabeth while they are staying in his home. Apparently both your aunt and uncle approve wholeheartedly of the match. I imagine your mother will, as well, when she sees Gardiner's description of the estate our Lizzy stands to become mistress of."

"I'm sure she will be happy to see Lizzy so happily situated, as will we all. I received a letter only yesterday from Lizzy in which she speaks very highly of Mr. Darcy and expresses great joy in his attentions. My aunt has also written of the beauty of Pemberley and the amiability of its owner. She says Mr. Darcy and Lizzy get on wonderfully and are very well suited."

Mr. Bennet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. While he was glad his Lizzy seemed happy at the prospect of this Mr. Darcy's suit, he couldn't like the thought of his favorite daughter being courted so far from his sphere of influence. He trusted Lizzy's judgement of character and ability to know her own mind, however. These things were a comfort, though he still couldn't quite like the situation. Derbyshire was a long way from Hertfordshire. He had hoped to have Elizabeth more closely situated. On the other hand, Lizzy had included a lengthy and detailed description of Pemberley's extremely well-stocked library in her letter to him. He certainly wouldn't mind receiving an open invitation to visit whenever a solitary escape from home was in order.

"So, my dearest Jane, do tell me more about this Mr. Darcy. I'm sure Lizzy has had more to say about him than you have let on. Gardiner sought, very tactfully, to prepare me for the shock that my daughter is bringing home a suitor closer to my own age than hers. One might think she was trying to replace me."

Mr. Bennet laughed wryly at his own joke, while Jane merely looked concerned. She knew her father's propensity to make a joke out of things that truly vexed him. In all probability, he was truly a bit jealous that Elizabeth had another man in her life now.

"My dear, with you happily ensconced at Netherfield with your Mr. Bingley, and Lizzy galavanting off to the Peak District with her rich widower, there will not be two words of sense spoken together in this house. How ever shall I get on."

Thought these words were spoken with his usual sardonic humor, Jane truly felt sorry for her father. He would indeed feel the loss of Elizabeth's company very greatly. In a gesture of quiet encouragement, she reached across the desk to take his hand in hers, patting it gently.

"Oh, my Janie, pay no attention to the ramblings of a sour old man. If Mr. Darcy makes Lizzy happy, I'm sure I will find a way to cope with the state of things here. Perhaps I shall take up residence with you and my new grandchild."

Jane glowed with happiness at the mention of her imminent arrival, and lovingly touched the small, rounded bump that had only recently begun to make itself known.

"If you, or Lizzy, manage to give me a grandson, I shall be a very happy man indeed. I believe I may even swear off grumbling for an entire week."

Both father and daughter laughed lightheartedly. Jane found herself wishing Elizabeth were there with them, though she was happy that her dear sister had finally found the love she had so hoped for. Mr. Darcy must be a fine man indeed if he was worthy of Elizabeth's esteem.

Jane was loathe to break the easy joviality of the moment, but she knew there was one important matter Elizabeth had asked her to handle before her return. She would never fail in her duty to her most beloved sister.

"Papa, there is one further matter I must discuss with you."

"And what is that, dear?"

"Lizzy has asked me to...to help prepare Mama and our sisters for Mr. Darcy's arrival. She is...concerned that their behavior will embarrass her. I hate to say so, Papa, but I fear she is right."

"Oh, yes, that is something to consider," Mr. Bennet mumbled, pretending to consider the topic. In truth, he was looking forward to watching the prestigious gentleman squirm under his wife's enthusiastic attentions. If Mr. Darcy could survive the gauntlet of female tittering and fawning that awaited him in the Bennet household, then he was truly a man worthy of Elizabeth's affection.

Mr. Bennet bided his time until his wife had been abed a full half hour before quietly peeking into her darkened chamber. Satisfied with her state of near-slumber, he entered and closed the door softly behind him. He placed his nightshirt-clad form on the bed beside her, and whispered in her ear.

"_Mrs. Bennet."_

Her answer was an annoyed groan, and an elbow to his ribs.

"Mrs. Bennet," he whispered again, though not so softly as the first.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet, you do delight in vexing me. My poor nerves cannot suffer your husbandly attentions at this hour. Must you always wait until I am half asleep to make a nuisance of yourself?"

"While your charms are considerable, my dear," Mr. Bennet quipped, "they are not the reason I have stolen into your bed at this late hour."

Mrs. Bennet glared at her husband through narrowed eyes.

The mischievous twinkle in Mr. Bennets eye intensified as he leaned in to, once again, whisper in his wife's ear.

"OOOOHHHHH! OOOOOOOHHHHH! MR. BENNET! OH, MR. BENNET!"

Pleased with himself, Mr. Bennet chuckled heartily at his wife's exuberant reaction to the news of Elizabeth's grand conquest. She had certainly awakened the entire house with her exclamations.

"How pleased I am, my dear, to see that I haven't quite lost my touch. I always did know how to make you shout my name in bed!"

* * *

><p>The final morning of Elizabeth's stay at Pemberley saw her walking out, arm in arm, with Darcy once again. He steered her in the direction of the private gardens, his large hand covering hers where it rested in the crook of his arm. The Gardiner party, Elizabeth included, would be departing for London just after breakfast, and Darcy wished to make the most of his remaining time with Elizabeth.<p>

It had been two days since he had tasted the sweetness of her mouth, and his desire for more of her had, impossibly, grown exponentially in the mean time. Of course, he could make no complaints regarding how they had spent their time. They had spent several hours the previous day discussing a few new books Darcy had ordered from London. He was pleasantly surprised to learn that Elizabeth had already read one of them, and she expressed a keen interest in the others. Mrs. Gardiner had sat, indulgently, with her needlework as they sat in a quiet corner of the library for hour after hour in private conversation. She hadn't minded, of course. It please both the Gardiners beyond measure to see their favorite niece so happily almost-matched.

The fourth day of their sojourn in Derbyshire had been spent traversing the countryside in the fine Darcy carriage, with Darcy acting as tour guide. He had shown them all the best prospects, pointing out important historical or geological sites along the way. Elizabeth had been quite impressed with his knowledge of the area he called home. He was clearly very proud to show it to them. They had stopped, at Darcy's direction, at a particularly picturesque spot overlooking a large valley with several jagged peaks in the distance. Blankets were spread on the mossy ground for a picnic luncheon, which all enjoyed greatly.

Elizabeth had been especially glad for the diversion from her troubled thoughts that the outing provided. The closer it came to time for her to return to Longbourn, the less she was able to put the immanent introduction out of her thoughts. She clung desperately to the hope that, between Jane and her father, her mother and younger sisters would be well enough prepared for Darcy's arrival that they would be on their best behavior. Even this thought was little comfort, as even their very best behavior left much to be desired.

Darcy had noticed Elizabeth's preoccupation, and had tried, indirectly, to hint that she could open up to him about what troubled her. For reasons she couldn't quite name, Elizabeth always politely demurred, saying it was only the excitement of the day or that she hadn't slept well the previous night. Darcy knew Elizabeth well enough to know that she wasn't being truthful when she said such things. Her constitution was too resilient to be affected by over-excitement, as other ladies were want to be, and she possessed a great deal of natural energy and did not easily succumb to fatigue. Still, he didn't press her for an explanation, wishing her to open up to him in her own time.

As much as she would like to confide her troubles in the man she hoped to, some day, call her husband, Elizabeth was reluctant to speak of her family to him. It was almost as if speaking of them would break the spell of the happy fairy land she had been living in for the past week, flinging her, prematurely, back to the harsh reality of her maiden existence at Longbourn. Elizabeth was also a private person, preferring to keep her own confidence in regards to her deeper thoughts and feelings. Even Jane, who had been her closest confidant since they were children, wasn't privy to all that went on in her heart and head. Despite her wish for Darcy to become something infinitely closer to her, she couldn't stop her natural hesitation when it came to revealing her personal thoughts and feelings to another.

Upon further examination, Elizabeth realized that growing up in a household were she was very little understood by those around her, and so often put to shame by the behavior of her mother and younger sisters, had caused her to guard her heart very closely. Any opinion she expressed to her mother was likely to be instantly disregarded or horribly exaggerated, so she had learned to keep such things to herself. Even her father, whom she considered her second-closest confidant, had a tendency to make light of her feelings and disregard her wishes. Her common sense told her that Mr. Darcy would never be so callous towards her as to ridicule or belittle her concerns in such a way, but reason very seldom prevails were irrational anxieties are concerned. The final morning of her stay at Pemberley was upon them, and she had yet to breathe a word of warning to Mr. Darcy about her family's less than desirable qualities.

Strolling arm in arm with him, completely alone, in the quiet beauty of the garden would have been as fine a time as any to divulge her fears and worries to Darcy, but Elizabeth, once again, was loathe to ruin the idillic moment. She reasoned that, if this was the last time she was to be by his side in his wonderful home, she was going to enjoy it, without the unwanted intrusion of her embarrassing family. For the time being, she would forcibly put her worries aside and focus on her pleasure in Darcy's company.

Very soon, she found herself being pulled into the seclusion of a small copse, and strong arms encircled her. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and rested her head against the firm expanse of Darcy's chest. Inhaling deeply, she savored the divine scent of him - sandalwood soap and a spicy, peppery smell she assumed was his cologne. He rested his chin on her head, and she pondered how perfectly they fit together, standing close like this. Daringly, she slipped her arms underneath his coat to encircle his waist, holding herself as close as possible. Oh, how she loved the warmth of him, and the quiet power of the firm muscles she could feel coiling and flexing underneath his clothing! No man had ever affected her thus. She imagined no other ever would.

"I will miss having you here, Elizabeth."

His deep, velvety voice in her ear sent frissons of excitement racing through her veins. She had loved the sound of his voice the first moment she heard it, and it continued to thrill her. She could listen to him speak, whatever the topic, for hours on end and never grow tired of it.

"I will leave for London tomorrow morning, where I will break my journey for two days time before traveling to Hertfordshire. You uncle has been so kind as to provide my driver with directions to your father's home. In five or six days' time, I shall see you there."

Though Elizabeth knew his words were meant to comfort her, they merely added to her anxiety. While she would always be glad for the prospect of seeing him, the thought of him arriving in front of Longbourn in his fine carriage, and the stir his arrival would cause, was enough to banish any hope for pleasant interaction at the time of their reunion.

"I have sent a note ahead to your father," Darcy continued, "briefly introducing myself, and requesting a private audience at his earliest convenience following my arrival in Hertfordshire. I wish to court you properly, in the presence of your family and friends, as you deserve."

Elizabeth knew that now was the time, if she were ever to do so, to warn him about the scene that, undoubtedly, awaited him at her home. She opened her mouth to speak, the very words trying to form themselves on the tip of her tongue, but, suddenly, her lips were employed in a far more intimate form of communication.

Giving in to the temptation that had plagued him for the past two days, Darcy captured Elizabeth's lips in a slow, sensual kiss. She hesitated for only a moment before responding, tilting her head back to give him better access to the farthest recesses of her sweet mouth. This kiss, while matching its predecessor in passion and feeling, was slower, and less urgent. They took their time, letting their lips linger together for long moments, to better memorize the perfect way they seemed to mesh, her full lower lip between Darcy's firmer, thinner lips. When her lips parted under his mouth, he paused to enjoy the warmth of their shared breath before tracing her lips with his tongue.

They continued thus, seemingly fused together, for several minutes. When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Elizabeth gently cradled Darcy's face in her hands, and proceeded to feather soft kisses across each of his noble features. First, his strong chin and square jaw were attended to, then his aristocratic nose and high cheekbones. Next, she pulled him towards her to place her kisses on his fine brow, and, then, each of his eyes, which remained closed as he reveled in her tender attentions. She made her way, then, to his ear. Darcy sighed in sweet agony at the feel of her hot breath in his ear, and the softness of her lips as they traced along his lobe, then down to the small sliver of neck she could reach before his cravat halted her explorations. He tilted his head back to give her as much access as possible, though restraint was becoming increasingly difficult as his arousal grew with each brush of her lips and breath on his skin.

When the time came, all too soon, for Darcy to hand Elizabeth into the carriage that would take her away from him for almost a week, it took all the restraint he possessed to settle for a chaste kiss on her gloved hand after the incredible liberties he had enjoyed only two hours earlier. Words of thanks and hopes to meet again in the near future were spoken by both himself and the Gardiners, though his consciousness was focused completely on the young woman who had, so quickly, turned his life upside down - for the best, of course. Elizabeth could only ever do him good. He watched from the gravel drive as the carriage grew smaller and smaller. To his delight, Elizabeth looked back.

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><p>Well, it's finally time for Elizabeth to return to the real world. Darcy will be joining her shortly, but, first, she will be in need of some helpful advice from our dear Aunt Gardiner and a few words of encouragement from Jane.<p>

Just to let you all know, I plan on posting an extended second draft of this story on another site once it's completed. Probably will end up being A Happy Assembly, though I have been experiencing technical difficulties with that site lately. If anyone has another suggestion, feel free to let me know. Anyone ever visit Austen Underground? Anyway, the expanded version will contain several chapters of more detailed interaction between Darcy and Elizabeth at Rosings. When I wrote the condensed version of their earliest acquaintance, I planned on writing this as a short story. Now that I have expanded the rest of the tale, it makes sense to spend a bit more time on first impressions. As always, recommendations and requests are welcome!


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Well, sorry to say, Darcy will not be making an appearance in this chapter, except in Elizabeth's thoughts. Don't worry. He'll arrive at Longbourn to start his official courtship of Elizabeth soon enough. The good news is, I am on vacation for the next four days, which means the next update might come sooner than usual. My muse and I enjoy languishing in the sand under an umbrella very, very, very much. :)

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><p>The three day carriage journey from Derbyshire to London felt impossibly tedious to Elizabeth after the bliss of the previous week. She missed Darcy with an ache that was almost physical. She yearned for his touch, the sound of his voice. Now that her wonderful week at Pemberley was over, it was easy to feel like it had all been a pretty dream, nothing more. She was only Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Longbourn, Hertfordshire. No fortune, no accomplishments, no connections. Nothing to recommend her but herself.<p>

She had never expected much from life. Love, perhaps. A family of her own, possibly. The past week had felt like she stepped into a fairy story. She had fallen in love with a handsome price, who lived in the loveliest castle imaginable. Now it was time to return to reality. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had never been destined to be queen of the realm. She feared that the dream was now over. He had promised to come to her in a week's time, but Elizabeth couldn't even picture Mr. Darcy at Longbourn. It seemed unreal, impossible, that he should ever be there. They existed in two separate worlds. Without the reality of him before her, it was easy to believe that she had dreamt it all.

Noting Elizabeth's despondency, Mrs. Gardiner tried, several times, to engage Elizabeth in conversation, with little success. By the time they finally arrived at Gracechurch Street, she had given up the effort entirely, allowing Elizabeth to remain silent with her thoughts and memories.

Her normally verbose niece's pensive silence concerned Mrs. Gardiner. As far as she knew, everything had gone well between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. Yet, Elizabeth seemed somewhat more despondent than a week's separation from her beau warranted. There was something bothering Elizabeth, and Mrs. Gardiner was determined to know what it was, and to help Elizabeth to overcome it, before sending her home to Longbourn.

Hoping a good night's sleep in the comfortable guest room in her relative's home, as opposed to the noisy inns they had inhabited during the journey, would relieve Elizabeth's melancholy somewhat, Mrs. Gardiner decided to put off tackling the subject with her niece until after breakfast the next morning. They would have an hour or so to converse before Mr. Gardiner accompanied Elizabeth half way to Hertfordshire in their carriage, where she would be transferred into the care of her father for the remainder of the trip home.

As is generally the case, Elizabeth did feel better after a decent night's sleep, though the same thoughts and fears still troubled her. If Darcy and she could only survive the months necessary to make the fullness of their joy come to fruition, they could go back to Pemberley, just the two of them, away from the embarrassment of her family, and begin their new life together. It was this thought, this hope, she clung to whenever worries and doubts tried to overwhelm her natural good humor. Determined not to part from her beloved aunt and uncle in such poor spirits, she forced herself to smile and behave pleasantly throughout breakfast. She found that a good night's rest, a full belly, and a strong cup of coffee with lots of sugar did wonders for one's outlook on life.

So, when her aunt drew her into her private parlor saying they needed to talk seriously for a few moments, Elizabeth felt equal to the task. She greatly appreciated her favorite aunt's consideration in waiting to broach the topic until she was able to speak about it with anything resembling equanimity. Despite the difficult nature of the topic and her natural propensity to keep her feelings carefully hidden, Elizabeth was glad her aunt was unwilling to let her go without some discussion. She valued her aunt's advice almost above anyone else's, and would be glad of a few words of encouragement to cling to for the coming week.

"Elizabeth, I'm sure you know why I wished to speak privately with you before you go," Mrs. Gardiner began. "I can tell you've been troubled since we left Derbyshire, and, though I have a pretty good guess as to why, I would like to hear it in your own words."

"Of course, Aunt," Elizabeth answered. "You know how difficult it can be for me to speak of these things with anyone, so I know you will be patient with me while I gather my thoughts."

Mrs. Gardiner nodded indulgently, and sat patiently while Elizabeth studied the carpet at her feet for several moments. At last, Elizabeth spoke.

"Oh, Aunt, I suppose the heart of the matter is that I fear my family's rather shocking lack of decorum will cause Mr. Darcy to withdraw his suit, at worst, or will deeply mortify us both, at best. Even though Jane and Papa have promised to help prepare Mama and my sisters before he arrives, I know the best I can hope for is still not going to be enough."

Mrs. Gardiner, understanding her niece's worries, moved closer to the younger woman on the settee and placed her arm comfortingly about her slender shoulders.

"I understand your trepidation, Elizabeth. But, you must remember, that Mr. Bingley still married Jane, despite seeing your family at their silliest and most uncontrolled. With any luck, they will be on their best behavior for your Mr. Darcy. Even if they do embarrass you - and I would prepare myself for the possibility, if I were you - the attachment I have been witness to between yourself and Mr. Darcy certainly appears strong enough to weather a few awkward moments. All will be well, dear. You needn't fret."

"I'm afraid there will be more than a _few_ awkward moments, Aunt. There are likely to be several. I only hope that Mr. Darcy's attachment is strong enough to face the truth about the mother-in-law he will be tying himself to, should he choose to offer for me. At least I can console myself with the knowledge that Derbyshire is so far from Hertfordshire that we are not likely to see much of her after we're married. That is, if we even make it to the alter. I can only hope that Mama will be so afraid of jeopardizing my very advantageous match that she will be suddenly struck mute."

"It will be well, Lizzy. Though, I do hope you thought to warn Mr. Darcy of your mother and sisters' excitable natures in advance."

Elizabeth visibly cringed. She had thought, several times, while at Pemberley that she needed to warn Darcy about her family, but had always put it off in favor of more enjoyable pursuits. Now, she desperately wished she had been more prudent.

The look on Elizabeth's face was enough to tell Mrs. Gardiner that Mr. Darcy would be entering the lion's den, as it were, completely unprepared.

"Well, that certainly makes things interesting," Mrs. Gardiner remarked dryly. "You could have made things a lot easier on you both if you had given him some idea of what to expect."

"I know, Aunt!" Elizabeth cried, frustration coloring her face. "I ignored the prodding of my better judgement several times while at Pemberley, and kept silent on the subject. Now, I desperately wish I would have warned him. I suppose I shall pay dearly for my mistake next week."

"Even so, Lizzy, I am firmly convinced that Mr. Darcy cares deeply enough for you that he will not be dissuaded from having you, no matter what transpires at Longbourn. He seems like a man who knows what he wants, and goes after it, whatever the obstacle. You must have faith in him, dear. Just always remember to be yourself, Lizzy. Continue being the charming, sweet girl he fell in love with, and all will work itself out in the end."

"You really believe he's in love with me, Aunt?"

"Darling girl, I don't merely _think_ he's in love with you. I _know_ he is. It's as plain as day."

On that happy note, Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner embraced each other tenderly before heading up to Elizabeth's room to make sure her things were packed and ready for the journey back to Hertfordshire.

She made pleasant conversation with her uncle as they sat across from each other in the carriage as it moved steadily towards home, though her thoughts were much occupied with her earlier conversation with her aunt. Elizabeth trusted her aunt's judgement implicitly, but the thought that Mr. Darcy was in love with her...well, he had certainly kissed and held her like she imagined a man in love might do. He had spoken very eloquently to her of his feelings, though the word "love" had not yet entered into their conversations. Even so, the mere thought that he might be in love with her - with _her_, Elizabeth Frances Bennet - was too wonderful to comprehend.

In any case, the thought took her mind off of the impending meeting, and all the anxiety that accompanied _that_ line of thought. Elizabeth resolved to focus her energy during the remaining time before Darcy's arrival at Longbourn on convincing her mother and sisters of the kind of behavior that would please a man like her suitor. Her father was another matter entirely. She would have to gauge his feelings on the possibility of her match with Darcy, in order to be sure he would grant Darcy permission to court her, and, hopefully, marry her. Assuring her father of her attachment and certainty of her desire to spend her life with Darcy would be a priority for the coming week.

Before she knew it, the carriage slowed to a halt in front of the inn at which the exchange was to take place. The carriage door opened to reveal, not a footman or her father, but the smiling face of Mr. Bingley. He extended his hand to help her down, which she readily accepted with a fond smile. She had always been excessively fond of her sister's amiable husband.

"Charles, what a lovely surprise! I expected my father. He is well, I hope."

"Well, Jane was anxious to see you, and your father was only too happy to be allowed to remain in his book room for the afternoon, so here we are!"

"Lizzy!" Jane's excited greeting prompted a delighted smile from Elizabeth, who rushed joyfully into her sister's open arms. The sisters embraced tightly for a few moments before drawing back. Jane immediately captured Elizabeth's hand and placed it, discreetly, on the small swell of her belly. Elizabeth's eyes immediately misted with happy tears.

"Oh, Jane, how wonderful! You're increasing!"

"It finally seems real, Lizzy. I've never been happier!"

Elizabeth's thoughts wandered briefly to her parting moments with Darcy. His embrace, his kisses. Those sweet parting words of affection and assurances that she would be missed. The depth of feeling in his dark eyes as he handed her into the carriage... For the moment, her fears and doubts vanished and hope for the future, for the possibility that she might, one day, increase with _his _child, pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.

"Neither have I, Jane," she breathed, suddenly serious. "Oh, dear sister, I've so much to tell you!"

"Of course. We must talk soon, Lizzy. I want to hear all about your Mr. Darcy, and your time in Derbyshire, but, first, we must get you home."

The transfer of Elizabeth and her luggage to the Bingleys' fine carriage was accomplished without incident, and she was, once again, on the road to Longbourn.

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><p>Wickham smiled to himself as he breathed deeply of the fresh sea air. He had always been fond of the sea, and he was enjoying his holiday in Brighton tremendously. Everything was progressing according to plan, and he still had ample free time to partake in the sundry pleasures the bustling town had to offer. He had made friends with several members of the _shire militia who were encamped in the area, including a few naive young officers from whom he could win a few pounds at the card tables.<p>

One such officer, a Mr. Denny, shared much of Wickham's propensity for gaming and whoring, and was able to show him all the best establishments in which to partake of said pastimes. Between reveling all in the delights the town had to offer, relieving his new friends of their money, pursuing his latest "business venture," and keeping Mrs. Young convinced that he would still want her after it succeeded, Wickham had blessedly little time to stew over the wrongs done to him by his godfather. As there was little, if anything, he could do to avenge himself on Darcy, it was better for his disposition not to think on the man at all, if he could help it.

Wickham's smile grew when he realized that, once his venture succeeded, revenge upon Darcy would also be carried out, if only incidentally. However much Darcy may try to distance himself, Wickham's name was irrevocably tied to his. He would always be Darcy's godson, therefore one of his nearest relations. The Darcy name would be smattered all over the gossip pages along with his, and his arrogant prig of a godfather would be humiliated. As an added bonus, Wickham would have the satisfaction of flinging Darcy's paltry allowance back in his face, after he was a wealthy man in his own right.

The salt air was delightfully crisp and fresh, the sun warm on his skin. Oh, but it was a good day to be George Wickham!

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><p>Oh, dear, what is he up to now? We'll just have to wait and see! I'm not in Brighton, but I am breathing the sea air as I write this! Oh, but it's a good day to be me! (For those of you reading this at work, so sorry to rub it in, but I'm just so happy to be out of the office!) Thanks for reading!<p> 


	14. Chapter 13

As soon as the carriage conveying Elizabeth away from him rounded the bend and disappeared from sight, Darcy had made his way upstairs to his private sitting room. There was a door there, opposite the one that led to his bedchamber, that he hadn't opened in eight and twenty years. The servants had opened it, to keep the hinges oiled and air out the room, or course, but he, personally, hadn't opened it, or entered the mistress' chambers, since his late wife had passed. Now, his object was to see what kind of condition the room was in, as it would soon have a new inhabitant.

Anne had had good, refined taste in decor, but the furnishings, papers, and decorations were still dreadfully outdated. Elizabeth would, or course, want to redecorate the room to suit her tastes. Anne had favored pinks and cornflower blue hues, but, if the colors of her gowns were any indication, Darcy suspected Elizabeth favored greens and yellows. Darcy immediately called for Mrs. Reynolds, telling her to find some needy family who would be blessed by some fine new furniture, and to clear the room of all that his former wife had placed there. He wanted Elizabeth to have a blank canvas with which to work. There would be no bed in the chamber when she arrived as mistress, so she would need to stay in his chamber until her rooms were complete. Something about the way she had kissed and clung to him gave Darcy cause to believe she wouldn't mind.

That task completed, Darcy rang for his valet and gave instructions for the man to begin packing his things for an extended trip to the south. He then ordered the carriage to be ready for departure at first light the next morning. In three days he would arrive at his London home, where he would take a day or so to meet with his solicitor and a few other business associates, before departing for Hertfordshire. He wanted to make sure his affairs were in order as soon as possible. His plans before deciding to make Elizabeth his wife had been to make his nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, his heir, with the condition that he took the Darcy surname before claiming his inheritance. If he and Elizabeth were never blessed with children, the estate would pass to Elizabeth. He was fortunate that his home was unencumbered by an entail. It meant he could leave it to whomever he pleased. Elizabeth would never be without a home, even with the great possibility that he passed on much sooner than she would.

Darcy also planned to find a gift for Elizabeth while he was in town, some token of his devotion that he could give her at the time their engagement became official. Jewelry was his preference. He wanted to give Elizabeth something she could wear always, letting all who saw it know that she was his. His initial thought had been a necklace, perhaps a locket with a lock of his hair inside, but then he remembered that she always wore a pretty amber cross around her neck. She had told him it was a gift from her father, so he was loathe to ask her to give it up. The next most obvious choice was a ring. He knew most women didn't wear a ring until the actual marriage took place, but, perhaps, if he purchased something pretty and tasteful, Elizabeth would consent to allow him to place it on her finger earlier.

Forcing himself to focus his thoughts on business, Darcy made his way to his study to attend to whatever matters required his attention before he could depart on the morrow. He set aside some things to take with him in the carriage, knowing he would be so dreadfully bored for the next three days that even the most mundane of business contracts would be a welcome diversion. He wondered what it would be like to make the journey between London and Pemberley with Elizabeth accompanying him. Her conversation would be the perfect diversion to make the time pass more quickly. Perhaps she would even be bold enough to allow him a few kisses to make the tedious journey more pleasurable. Darcy smiled at the thought, but quickly forced his mind to refocus on the pile of paperwork on the desk before him. Reminding himself that it was, now, for Elizabeth's sake that he needed to keep his affairs in order helped a great deal, and Darcy buckled down for several hours of necessary work.

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><p>Elizabeth's reception at Longbourn was every bit as boisterous as she could have expected. Her mother was the first to rush through the door to embrace her, something that was entirely new and unexpected. Elizabeth, who had always known she was her mother's least favorite daughter, suddenly found herself to have risen greatly in her mother's esteem, seemingly overnight.<p>

"Oh, Lizzy, my darling, darling girl! I always knew you could not be so clever for nothing! Trust my clever girl to catch herself such a rich gentleman. Oh, the carriages you shall have! the pen money! the jewels!"

"Lovely to see you again, too, Mama," Elizabeth greeted her mother with suppressed exasperation.

Kitty and Lydia were the next to assault Elizabeth with excessive animation.

"Oh, Lizzy, is it true? Is he very, very rich?" Lydia tittered.

"Such worldly things shouldn't matter in a marriage," Mary solemnly stated, completely ignored by her sisters. "All that counts is that he is a man of upright character and sound morals."

"Is he handsome?" Kitty added.

"Oh, he's sure to be handsome!" Lydia answered for her, and a fresh round of giggling ensued.

Not trusting herself to reply civilly to her sisters' silly questions, Elizabeth simply kissed all three on their rosy cheeks, and pushed past them towards her father, who calmly and stoically awaited her approach from the doorway.

"Ah, there you are, my child," he began. "I understand you will soon be wanting to leave me all alone at the mercy of all these tittering peahens. However shall I manage?"

"Papa, I'm very happy to see you," Elizabeth replied, standing on tip-toe to kiss her father's cheek, pointedly ignoring his remark.

Claiming the need to refresh herself and rest after her journey, Elizabeth made her way upstairs to her room, accompanied only by Jane.

"Oh, Jane, it's every bit as bad as I expected!" Lizzy cried in exasperation as soon as the latch clicked behind them. "How ever shall we manage getting them under control in only a weeks' time?"

"I shall speak to Mama myself before Mr. Darcy arrives. All will be well, dearest," Jane answered, sympathetically. She remembered all too well what it was like to bring a suitor around her mother and youngest sisters. Jane didn't know enough about Mr. Darcy to truly know how he would react to such a spectacle, but she had been exceedingly grateful for the ease and good humor with which her own dear Bingley had handled their effusions. She was sure that any man Elizabeth would care so deeply for would be the sort of man to bear her family's quirks with patience and understanding.

With the gentle ministrations of a lifelong friend and confidant, Jane assisted Elizabeth in changing out of her dusty traveling clothes and into a fresh gown.

"Just like old times," Elizabeth observed.

Jane smiled serenely at her sister, and the two made themselves comfortable on the small settee by the window.

"Now, Lizzy," Jane began, "I want to hear all about Mr. Darcy and your time at Pemberley."

"Oh, Jane, I know not where to begin. There is so much to tell."

Decided it best to begin at the beginning, Elizabeth started by describing her initial impressions of Pemberley, then the awkward, but crucial, moment when Mr. Darcy had come upon her so unexpectedly. Elizabeth even recounted the events of Mr. Wickham's brief visit to her sister, who was properly shocked by the man's behavior and treatment of his godfather, though she was sure there must be some sort of mistake. Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes, and reminded her sister that she was much too apt to think well of people who didn't deserve it. Jane was then treated to a recounting of the events of their brief, unofficial courtship, complete with numerous blushes.

As happy as Elizabeth always was to confide in her sister, she hesitated when she approached the point in her story where Mr. Darcy had first kissed her. Knowing Elizabeth as well as she did, Jane could tell there was something Elizabeth was reluctant to tell her. She pressed, and Elizabeth, reluctantly, relented.

"Jane, being kissed by Mr. Darcy is the epitome of delight," she gushed after describing the circumstances of the kiss to her rapt companion. "Afterwords, he said perhaps he oughtn't to have kissed me until speaking with father about making our courtship official, but I, for one, cannot regret it. I am daily faced with the very real possibility that Mr. Darcy will come to his senses once he meets my family, and those kisses will be all I will ever have of him."

"Lizzy! How could you even think such a thing?"Jane cried. "Do you truly think so little of Mr. Darcy that you would believe him so inconstant? How do you think he would feel if he knew you have so little faith in him?"

"I'm sorry, Jane. I know I ought to have more faith, you are correct. Of course, you are. I simply do not have your ability to always expect the best in every circumstance. I know how Mama is, and I know that Mr. Darcy is used to being in only the best and most refined of society, when he is in society at all. He has kept mostly to himself these many years. I fear that he will be overwhelmed, that's all."

"I do understand your worries, Lizzy. Just be sure you don't behave differently around Mr. Darcy because of them. I know you, Elizabeth Bennet. You have a way of erecting walls around your heart when you fear being hurt. The problem is, these walls will also keep you from allowing others to love you, and to know you. You must make a conscious effort not to put up walls, Lizzy."

Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement. Jane knew her so well.

"That reminds me of something Aunt Gardiner told me before I left," Elizabeth said. "She said that I must continue to be myself with Mr. Darcy, no matter what happens."

"She is absolutely right," Jane concurred. "Mr. Darcy is coming here to court _you_, not your family. You must remember that, and all will be well."

"Thank you, dearest. I do hope you will try to spend as much time here as possible. You have ever so much more success at calming Mama when she gets herself worked up into one of her states than I ever have."

"I will try, Lizzy. I promise. And, if it is any consolation, Charles and I have spoken about inviting Mr. Darcy to stay with us at Netherfield. It is must quieter there, as there are fewer people residing in a larger space. Perhaps it will make him more comfortable."

"Oh, Jane! Thank you! Yes, I'm sure he will be much more comfortable at Netherfield than he would have been here. It does ease my mind greatly."

The sisters spoke quietly of the goings-on at Netherfield for several moments. Elizabeth groaned, as she always did, when Jane mentioned that Caroline Bingley had come to stay with them since the season was drawing to a close.

"As much as I hate to wish such a fate on any decent man, I will be relieved when your sister-in-law finds herself a husband, and she has a home of her own to inhabit. We are sure to see less of her, and for that I, for one, shall be grateful."

"Oh, Lizzy, you mustn't be unkind!" Jane chided. "Caroline may have her faults, but she has always been kind to me."

Elizabeth knew better than to argue with her sister on this point, though she completely disagreed. Jane may have chosen to remain ignorant of Caroline's vehement objection to her brother's initial pursuit of Jane Bennet, but Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley for what she was - a conniving, social-climbing, disdainful, snob.

Steering the conversation to a more pleasant topic, Elizabeth asked Jane how she had been feeling.

"Better now," she answered. "For the first three months or so I was terribly ill each morning, and very tired throughout each day. Around the time I felt the quickening, about a month ago, I began to feel more like myself again, though there are still some differences."

Jane blushed deep scarlet as she said this, averting her eyes bashfully. Elizabeth, knowing her sister as she did, could tell Jane was thinking of something of a rather personal nature.

"Come now, Jane, you must have no secrets from me," Elizabeth prodded. "Besides, if you are correct and Mr. Darcy decides to stick around after all, I will need to be prepared for when I experience the joys of impending motherhood myself."

"But, Lizzy, it isn't the sort of thing one can speak of, especially to an unmarried lady."

"Now, Jane, my curiosity will not go unsatisfied. You simply must tell me."

Jane blushed anew, but decided it was right that her sister should be prepared for the more intimate aspects of wifehood. As embarrassing as it would be for Jane to speak of, she would rather Elizabeth hear of such things from herself than from their mother, whose vivid descriptions of humiliation and discomfort had left Jane in a bundle of terrified nerves on her wedding night.

"Well, Lizzy, I suddenly began to desire Charles' attentions more...a great deal more, actually...in...you know... in the way married people desire to be together."

"I may not know much about what transpires between a man and wife in the privacy of the bedchamber, Jane, but I do know something of desire. When Mr. Darcy kissed me in the more...intimate ways, I..."

Elizabeth found herself unable to complete the thought, but Jane saw enough in her expression and the flush of her cheeks to understand, completely, what Elizabeth couldn't put words to. She reached for her sister's hand, and patted in encouragingly.

"Being together as man and wife can be a very wonderful thing, Lizzy. I was frightened, at first, but the more familiar Charles and I become with each other, the more I enjoy our interludes. There is nothing quite like it, to know you are as close to the one you love as you can possibly be. When you love someone...well... to have a part of him quite literally inside you is...the most wonderful, fulfilling thing in the world. You must never allow Mama to scare you into thinking of marital relations as a chore or a duty. It is an act of love, and," here Jane paused to place their joined hands on her belly, "it yields the most beautiful of results."

For several minutes afterwards, the sisters spoke cheerfully of plans for the baby's arrival. They spoke of names, of the baby clothes Jane was working on, and her plans for the renovation of the nursery. For the moment, Elizabeth was able to feel optimistic that she, too, would understand such joy in the not-so-distant future.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed some good "old married lady" wisdom from Jane. Next time, Darcy travels south, and Elizabeth tries to prepare her family, especially Mr. Bennet, for Darcy's arrival.<p> 


	15. Chapter 14

On her fourth morning back home at Longbourn, Elizabeth embarked upon her usual morning walk just as the sun was beginning its assent over the horizon. As was almost constantly the case of late, her thoughts were focused on Darcy's solely impending arrival. Though the swift approach of the day she would have to introduce him to the Bennets filled her with trepidation, there were aspects of the visit that she could anticipate. One of which was showing him her favorite walk and the fine prospect from Oakham Mount.

Taking a seat on a fallen log, Elizabeth began to form a strategy for preparing her family for Darcy's arrival. She already had an ally in Jane, which was an immense relief. Jane had also promised her another ally in Charles, who was charged with the task of engaging Mr. Darcy frequently in pleasant conversation (whenever a distraction from any questionable behavior on the part of one of the Bennets was needed) and offering to host Elizabeth at Netherfield fairly often in the coming weeks, minimizing the amount of time Darcy would need to spend at Longbourn. Elizabeth still wasn't sure if her father would be an ally or an additional obstacle. She decided the best course to take where he was concerned would be to speak with him about the importance of assisting her in curbing the behavior of her mother and younger sisters. Perhaps if she expressed to him just how very, very much she cared for Darcy and how very loathe she would be to lose him, or his respect, then he would put forth the effort for the sake of seeing his favorite daughter happy.

There wasn't much Elizabeth could do as far as her mother, Kitty, and Lydia were concerned until she had a better idea of how much help she could expect from her father. She knew explaining her attachment to Darcy in the way she could do with her father would be an exercise in futility with her mother and sisters. They were, quite blissfully, unaware of the way their silly behavior was often perceived, and no amount of reasoning, chiding, or pleading had ever convinced them to curb themselves.

Elizabeth decided that, after ascertaining her father's thoughts on the matter, she would need to have another scheming session with Jane in order to cement their plans for making the best possible impression on Darcy, and they only had one more day in which to do so. She rose from her seat to head back down the path home, hoping, and expecting, to find her father alone in his book room when she returned. It was time she told him personally about her Mr. Darcy.

* * *

><p>While Elizabeth was preparing the inhabitants of Longbourn for his arrival, Darcy was desperately wishing he had decided to ride his horse to London. The carriage ride was every bit as tedious and insufferable as it always was, and he was overjoyed to, finally, arrive at his London home. After refreshing himself, the first thing on his agenda for his short stay in London was to inspect the mistress' chambers, much as he had done at Pemberley before his departure. The London housekeeper was given the same orders he had given Mrs. Reynolds regarding the clearing out of the outdated items and furniture, and Darcy retired to his own chamber for the night.<p>

He awoke early the next morning ready to tackle the meetings and paperwork he needed to attend to so that he could be on his way to Hertfordshire, and to Elizabeth, the next day. He attended correspondence in his study until his solicitor arrived for their scheduled appointment, during which they discussed the impending changes to his will, as well as the need to begin work on the marriage settlement. Darcy wanted no expense spared where Elizabeth's comfort and future security were concerned. He also mentioned to his solicitor that Elizabeth had three unmarried sisters who would likely benefit from an increase in their dowries, if that could be arranged in accordance with Elizabeth's settlement. He also asked about possible arrangements that could be made for Elizabeth's mother, who, he understood, would lose her home upon the death of her husband. He wished for Elizabeth never to have to worry about the well-being of any of her family.

Darcy partook of a light luncheon in the dining room after his meeting ended, then made his way to the jeweler's on Bond Street. After spending several minutes meticulously pursuing case after case of shimmering jewels, he finally selected what he thought was the perfect piece to present to his future wife. It was a shimmering pear-shaped yellow diamond set in a platinum band with a row of tiny white diamonds framing either side of the main gem. It wasn't overly ostentatious or overly large. He thought it would look quite splendid on Elizabeth's dainty, feminine hand, and would complement her taste in clothing. He also selected several other pieces he thought would please her, to be presented at various moments during their engagement and the first weeks of their marriage. He thought emeralds would look especially well on her, so he purchased an entire emerald ensemble, complete with bejeweled hairpins. Rubies and pearls were also selected, though all were delicate and tasteful in design. He would never imagine Elizabeth wishing to flaunt their wealth with overly gaudy jewels.

His other various appointments were gotten out of the the way next. Darcy decided to pay a visit to his favorite nephew on his way back home, suddenly bursting with desire to tell someone of his coming felicity. In has last letter, Colonel Fitzwilliam had mentioned that he would be at his parents' home, which was on the same street as Darcy House, on a couple weeks' leave. It was there that Darcy went next. He was soon ushered into the library, where his nephew was currently lounging on a settee, glass of brandy in hand.

"I say, Uncle, you're looking uncommonly cheerful today. You look like the cat that's swallowed the cream. I shall not be put off. Out with it!"

Darcy laughed lightheartedly at his nephew's good-natured teasing. It was just like Fitzwilliam to immediately detect his elevated mood.

"Wonderful to see you, too, Fitzwilliam," he replied sarcastically, grasping the younger man's hand in a firm handshake.

"I assume you've come with some purpose in mind, Uncle. May as well come right to it."

"I do have news to share with you, Nephew. The most incredible thing has happened. You'll never guess."

"Let's see," Fitzwilliam began, rubbing his chin in exaggerated pensiveness. "Boney's tucked tail and run back to France? No, I would've know about that. Let me see... Lady Catherine took a vow of silence? No, that's not possible, no. Ah! I've got it! You've finally taken my advice and visited Madam Laroche's fine establishment! It's the only possible reason for that ridiculous grin."

"What?" Darcy responded, mildly appalled by his licentious nephew's suggestion. "No! Of course not. This is something much better."

"Better? I hardly believe that possible," Fitzwilliam retorted.

"Well, I can see you're out of guesses, so I'll come right to the point. Do you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet? she was a guest of Lady Catherine's parson and his wife when we were last in Kent?"

"Of course I remember Miss Bennet! What red-blooded man could possibly forget the delectable Miss Bennet?" The Colonel punctuated his speech with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows.

"Careful, Fitzwilliam. You may be speaking of my future wife." Darcy cautioned.

Darcy had the satisfaction of watching his nephew's eyes go wide, and his mouth gape open most unbecomingly. It took several moments for the Colonel to regain his powers of speech.

"George Darcy, you sly dog! I had not idea you were still seeing Miss Bennet after we left Kent! You've been holding out on me. I must say, I'm wounded that you see fit to inform me only now."

"I assure you Fitz, it is a much more recent development than that. Pour me a glass of that brandy, and you shall have the whole story."

Darcy passed the next hour in the pleasant company of his nephew, enjoying the novelty of having a willing ear to listen as he waxed eloquent about Elizabeth's many charms and virtues.

Colonel Fitzwilliam couldn't have been more surprised, or pleased, to see his favorite uncle so extraordinarily happy. He had suspected the older man's attachment to the comely young lady back in the spring, but hadn't the slightest hope that Darcy would be able to overcome his confirmed bachelor ways and pursue her. It seemed that fate had intervened, most fortuitously. Miss Bennet _had_ mentioned that she was one of four sisters, after all...

* * *

><p>Elizabeth felt no better upon exiting her father's book room than she had upon entering it. He had expressed only a minimum of concern for the behavior of her mother and younger sisters, and had very nearly scoffed at her ardent expressions of her love and devotion to Mr. Darcy. It was almost as if he thought she was a child still, too young and naive to even know what love was or understand her own heart. It was absolutely insufferable!<p>

Finding herself, once again, seeking refuge out of doors, Elizabeth started down the path to Netherfield, hoping Jane wouldn't mind an impromptu visit. It was a full three miles, and Elizabeth could certainly use the exercise to work out some of her frustration at her father's flippancy. Could he not see how important this was to her? to all of them, really? It would be unfair to place the entire burden of the care of her mother and sisters, after her father's death, on Mr. Bingley and Jane alone. Surely, from that standpoint, her father should be able to see the benefit for the entire family in her marriage to Mr. Darcy. As much as she hated thinking of marriage in such an emotionless, practical light, she was not so naive as to think that such things shouldn't matter to a man responsible for the care and well-being of his wife and daughters. It was a puzzle she simply could not solve.

Jane would know what to do. Sweet, sincere Jane always had the answers she needed when she needed them. Elizabeth sighted at the thought that, if she moved to Derbyshire as Mr. Darcy's wife, she would be very, very far away from her dearest sister. Elizabeth made a mental note to ask Mr. Darcy if there might be any estates available for purchase near Pemberley. Such a speculation was far too premature, she knew, so it was filed away for future perusal.

Forcing her thoughts to move in a more pleasant direction, Elizabeth dreamily wondered what Darcy was doing at that very moment. No doubt, he was preparing for the trip from London to Hertfordshire that he would undertake the next morning. Elizabeth sighed. Why did every train of thought she entertained have to lead back to her fear of the upcoming introductions? That wouldn't do at all.

She searched her thoughts for the most pleasant thought of all, and focused all her energy on keeping it front and center. This most pleasant of all contemplations was, of course, the last time Darcy's lips had touched hers. She recalled his taste, the feel of his hands on her waist, his appealing form pressed against her; and she found that there was also a great deal of cause to anticipate his arrival in Hertfordshire. She resolved to pull him into a quiet corner of the garden at the earliest opportunity to refresh her memory.

Pleasant thoughts securely in place, Elizabeth continued on her way to Netherfield, confident that, with Jane's help, she would make it through the next weeks with her felicity, and dignity, in tact.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **It's short, I know, but we're almost ready to bring our favorite couple back together again! We got to hear from the delightfully rakish Colonel Fitzwilliam at last. He will play a bit of a larger roll in the second draft. :)

Darcy's almost here, guys! Hope you have smelling salts and fans in hand!


	16. Chapter 15

"Jane, that's brilliant!"

Jane laughed happily at her sister's exuberance, glad that she had hit upon just the solution for assuaging Elizabeth's worry about the next day. At the very least, Elizabeth would enjoy one evening of her beau's company before introductions took place, and she would have to opportunity to warn him of what awaited him at Longbourn.

Jane rose from her place on the sofa and made her way over to the small writing desk in the corner.

"I'll write a short note to Mr. Darcy, inviting him to stay at Netherfield during his time in Hertfordshire. I will also ask him to travel straight here instead of stopping at Longbourn first. That way, he can settle in and rest from his journey before meeting the rest of the family the next morning."

"I knew you would have the solution, Jane. I just knew it! Now, if I could just convince you to be a very poor chaperone while I'm here and frequently decide you are needed elsewhere in the house, I would be even more gratefully bound to you."

"Now, Lizzy, let's not push our luck. Remember, Charles is responsible for you while you're in his house, and I don't imagine he will relish the thought of answering to Papa should anything untoward occur."

"Oh, Jane, don't worry so. Nothing very untoward will occur. A few kisses, that's all. You have my word."

"You'll not pull the wool over my eyes, Lizzy," Jane teasingly admonished. "Remember, I'm an old married lady now. It has been my experience that a few kisses can turn into many kisses, and a great deal of other delightfully mischievous conduct you aren't supposed to know about."

"Well, you can hardly chastise me for knowing of things you yourself told me of, dear sister," Elizabeth replied saucily. "When you see my Mr. Darcy, you shall not blame me in the slightest for being eager."

Elizabeth had the satisfaction of watching her sister's lovely face blush scarlet.

"Elizabeth Bennet! I do hope Mr. Darcy has no notion of just how unladylike you can be sometimes!" Jane shook her head in fond exasperation with her younger sister's often overly adventurous spirit.

Elizabeth was forced to bite her lip to keep a wide smile from overtaking her face. She could feel her cheeks begin to burn as her mind conjured an image of the delightful interlude in Mr. Darcy's study.

"I'm not even going to ask what _that_ look signifies, Miss Lizzy," Jane chastised, suspecting the meaning of Elizabeth's distracted look. "Your kind are the reason chaperones were invented in the first place."

"No, I would say Mr. Darcy's kind was - meaning tall, dark, and irresistibly handsome gentlemen with enigmatic stares and cravats that sometimes happen to go amiss. Can you imaging me behaving in such a manor if it were, say, Mr. Collins coming a-courting? No, my dearest Jane, the fault lies strictly with Mr. Darcy."

"Mr Darcy? Meaning Mr. George Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? However would _you _know of him?"

Caroline Bingley's gratingly sweet tones instantly rid Elizabeth of her good humor. She had never liked Charles' duplicitous sister, and hearing her own Mr. Darcy's name on Miss Bingley's lips made Elizabeth visibly cringe.

Fortunately, Jane was able to recover from the shock quickly enough to take charge of the situation.

"Mr. Darcy is to be a guest here starting tomorrow, Caroline. Do you know him?"

Miss Bingley immediately sat up taller, happy to share her knowledge with anyone who would listen, and even those who would rather not.

"Why, of course I know of Mr. Darcy! Everyone who is anyone knows who he is! Apparently, he is one of the most desirable, though notoriously uncatchable, bachelors in England. He reportedly has an income upwards of ten thousand a year, a glorious estate in the north, and good looks to boot! He has been a widower for several years, and up until last month, he had been rather reclusive, refusing to take part in the season. He attended several parties, balls, and the like last month. He was even reportedly seen at Almacks! It was the talk of the _ton_. Everyone has been speculating on whether or not his sudden reappearance on the scene means he has finally decided to take another wife."

"You certainly seem to have rather extensive knowledge of the gentleman," Jane sweetly acknowledged, though she was beginning to feel slightly uneasy. "Tell me, have you ever met Mr. Darcy?"

"Well...no, I have not had the privilege," Caroline answered, clearly wishing she could answer in the affirmative.

"You shall meet him tomorrow, then."

"As pleased as I am at the prospect, I do wonder what business he could possibly have here," Caroline speculated. "I was unaware that Charles was acquainted with him."

"He is only a recent acquaintance," Jane replied uneasily, glancing discreetly in Elizabeth's direction. She couldn't like the direction the conversation was taking.

"I still wonder what business he has at Netherfield."

"Perhaps he heard of an eligible and desirable young lady who might be staying here," Elizabeth spoke up, an arch smile playing on her face. "You did say he might be looking for a wife."

Miss Bingley blushed an unhealthy-looking shade of red, and fanned herself with her elaborate silk fan, causing the overly-large plumes sticking out of her turban to move slightly out of place.

"Oh?" she exhaled tremulously. "Jane, darling, I just remembered, I absolutely _must_ attend to some alterations to one of my gowns. Do excuse me."

With that, Miss Bingley bustled from the room, calling shrilly for her maid to attend her in her dressing room. She left behind her a laughing Elizabeth and a displeased Jane.

"Lizzy, that was..."

"I know, Jane. I know. I just couldn't resist. Can you imagine the look on her face when she realizes he's here for me?"

"Elizabeth, you mustn't be cruel to Caroline. She means well..."

"Yes, yes, Jane. I'm terribly sorry to have offended your sensibilities with my propensity to tease and laugh at the foibles of others. You must pay no mind to me."

Jane completed her note to Mr. Darcy and handed it to the housekeeper with instructions to see that a special messenger was immediately commissioned to deliver the letter to Darcy House in London. Their plans well underway, Elizabeth said goodbye to her sister and began the three mile walk back to Longbourn. As much as she enjoyed the walk, she had accepted Jane's offer to send their carriage for her before their dinner engagement the next day. She wanted to look her best for Darcy's arrival.

* * *

><p>Darcy shifted anxiously in his seat as he gazed distractedly out the window at the passing Hertfordshire countryside. For all his attempts to distract himself by observing the passing scenery, Darcy's mind was more occupied with his nerves over the impending reunion with Elizabeth. He was nearly bursting with desire to see her, but, despite his eagerness, he still felt a certain level of unease. After some consideration, he concluded that he was simply anxious to see how Elizabeth would behave when in her native element. After making the acquaintance of Elizabeth's Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, Darcy felt he had no reason to be concerned about the upcoming introduction to Elizabeth's immediate family. The Gardiners, no matter their position in life, were well-mannered, kind, and all-together worth knowing. Surely the remainder of Elizabeth's family would be no different.<p>

From his window, Darcy could see the silhouette of a very fine-looking manor house in the distance. He presumed it was his destination, Netherfield Hall, the home of Elizabeth's elder sister and her husband. He had been impressed with what he knew of Jane Bingley thus far, though all he had to go by were Elizabeth's words of ardent devotion and praise, and the kind, but simple, note he had received from the lady the previous evening. It was very thoughtful of Mrs. Bingley to invite him, a complete stranger, to stay in her home. She must have great faith in Elizabeth's judgement to accept him based on her regard alone.

Darcy sighed aloud. He had been his parents' only child, and had, therefore, never known what it was to share such a close bond with a sibling. In fact, he had rarely been close to any other person. He supposed he was suspicious of people in general, not that anyone who knew the innumerable times he had been the target of insincerity, avarice, and greed could really blame him for it. There were few he felt he could trust enough to become close to. Colonel Fitzwilliam had become his closest friend and confidant in recent years, due mostly to the young man's unrelenting determination and refusal to notice Darcy's natural reticence. As a boy, Fitzwilliam had never tried to hide the fact that he looked up to his uncle, and Darcy had become very fond of him for it. When he became a man, Darcy found that spending time in the young soldier's lively company kept him from feeling unbearably old and stodgy. A nice long bout of fencing with a young buck trained for battle was just the thing to remind him that he was yet in his prime. Beyond that, Fitzwilliam had proven, time and again, that he could be trusted with anything Darcy saw fit to confide in him. Besides the young Colonel's propensity to patronize houses of ill repute, which he couldn't approve, Darcy thought more highly of him than any other of his acquaintance. Since deciding to make Elizabeth his wife, Darcy had begun to think of other ways to work the Colonel into his will. He was glad he had never spoken to anyone about his plans to make his nephew his sole heir. It would have been a cruel blow to have that all snatched away from him so unexpectedly, and Darcy was glad he had been discreet. Still, Darcy had the satisfaction of feeling confident that, though disappointment would have been inevitable, Fitzwilliam would still have been genuinely happy that he had found someone with whom he wished to share his life. There could be no doubt of that. Mercenary was one word that could never be applied to his nephew.

Shifting his attention back towards the approaching house, Darcy noticed several persons, a young gentleman and three ladies, standing on the steps, awaiting his arrival. His attention, however, focused solely on one - a petite young lady with dark curls and a bright smile. It had only been a week, but it seemed a lifetime had passed since he had held Elizabeth. As the carriage rolled to a halt, Darcy decided he would remedy that situation as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

The footman opened the carriage door, and Darcy stepped down, his eyes immediately seeking out Elizabeth, who was smiling very widely as she returned his gaze. He smiled back and tipped his hat subtly in her direction, willing to wait until the introductions had been made to fully claim her attention.

As was expected, his host, Mr. Bingley, stepped forward first.

"Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome," the smiling young man greeted him with a polite, if a bit sloppy, bow. "I do hope you had a pleasant trip."

"I did, thank you, Mr. Bingley. You have a lovely home," Darcy responded with a bow of his own.

"Now, allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Jane Bingley." Bingley beamed, as he always did when introducing his beautiful wife to any acquaintance. He placed a hand possessively on the small of her back as she demurely placed her hand in Darcy's for a soft kiss.

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth's lovely sister as her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of rose when his lips touched her gloved hand. Elizabeth hadn't exaggerated her sister's beauty in the least. Mrs. Bingley was a stunning woman, it couldn't be denied. Still, Darcy preferred Elizabeth's more earthy beauty and confident, outgoing personality to her sister's quiet charm. He glanced at Elizabeth to see her watching his reaction with a hint of nervous anticipation in her gaze. It didn't surprise him that she would worry that he might find her sister more attractive than she. As soon as possible, he would make sure she understood that her fears were completely unfounded.

"And this is my sister, Miss Caroline Bingley," Mr. Bingley spoke next.

A very much overdressed, over-coiffed, and overly sweet lady sauntered up to him next, extending her jewel-incrusted hand with clear expectation.

"A pleasure, Miss Bingley," Darcy offered, merely bowing over this lady's hand. Darcy was gratified to see her look of clear displeasure. This woman was a mercenary husband-hunter if ever he saw one, and he had become somewhat of an expert at spotting them over the years.

Finally, Elizabeth approached him, and he was able to take her delicate hand between his and raise it to his lips for a lingering kiss.

"Miss Bennet," he very properly greeted her, "may I say what an immense pleasure it is to see you again?"

"You may indeed, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth responded sweetly, "but the pleasure is all mine."

Darcy gave her a meaningful look, hoping to convey all he felt to Elizabeth without breeching propriety in front of her relations. Following Mr. Bingley's lead, the party made their way into the house, where Darcy was directed to his rooms in order to refresh himself before dinner.

Caroline Bingley was in a huff. Not only had their illustrious guest nearly snubbed her, but that little rat, Eliza, hadn't seen fit to inform her that she had already made the gentleman's acquaintance. The little upstart clearly had designs on him. Caroline's sharp mind immediately began making plans to foil any such scheme Elizabeth might wish to carry out. She wouldn't allow some country nobody to claim her prize.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Uh-oh folks! Looks like a new villain may be emerging from the woodwork. :)

Several readers expressed concern about Col. Fitz's reaction to loosing his prospects as Darcy's almost-heir. I tried to clear that up in this chapter. Just to reiterate, Col. Fitz never knew Darcy was considering making him his heir, so no problems from that quarter.

Well, here he is, at last! I have a little treat for you guys next time, so stay tuned!


	17. Chapter 16

_Chapter 16_

Elizabeth smiled slyly to herself as the patter of raindrops on the windows made itself known mid-way through dinner. She would have to stay for the night. Hopefully, she would be able to find some precious private time with Darcy in which to prepare him for the morning's visit to her home. With any luck, the rain would continue through the next day, delaying the inevitable for a bit longer. She would be glad to be trapped indoors for a few days if she had Darcy to pass the time with. Netherfield's library was a in a sorry state, despite her father's generous efforts to see that his eldest daughter's home possessed at least the most essential works of literature, but Elizabeth was sure that, together, they could find some pleasant way to occupy their time.

Both Elizabeth and Darcy had been pleased to be seated beside each other at the table - Jane's doing, of course. Darcy was seated on Bingley's left side, and Elizabeth was pleased to discover that the two found a great deal to talk about. They seemed to be getting on splendidly. She knew her Mr. Darcy could be somewhat reticent in company, and was pleased that her effervescent brother-in-law had quickly broken through his reclusive shell. Darcy was smiling, laughing openly, and contributing to the conversation with ease and good humor.

Elizabeth gave her sister, who was seated across and one place over from her, a sly grin as she noticed her quietly studying Mr. Darcy. Jane returned Elizabeth's smile with a subtile lift of her delicate eyebrows, indicating her approval of what she had seen thus far. Directly across from Elizabeth sat Caroline Bingley who, it pleased Elizabeth greatly to note, appeared none too pleased that it was Elizabeth, and not herself, seated next to their handsome and wealthy guest. She could almost see the steam rising from Caroline's overly-plumed turban. There was no mistaking the look of appreciation in the orange-clad lady's eye as she appraised the gentleman from across the table, and Elizabeth felt immensely proud that he was hers.

Wishing to express to him just how proud she was to show him off to her relations, and acting on a simple need for physical contact with him, Elizabeth slowly allowed her hand to wander under the table in his direction. She felt him stiffen in surprise as her fingers came to rest on his knee, but he quickly hid his reaction. He glanced quickly in her direction, not long enough to be remarked upon by their companions, but just long enough to communicate his mischievous mood to Elizabeth. He knew she wanted him to take her hand under the table, but he was enjoying the gentle questing of her fingers too much to give in easily. She hoped no one, save Jane who seemed to see every nuance of the interaction between the two lovers, noticed the heightening of her color. Elizabeth allowed her hand to drift upwards, pressing lightly into the firmness of Darcy's muscled thigh, until his fingers finally laced with hers.

Suddenly, Jane gave a little exclamation of surprise as her fork tumbled to the floor. The footman immediately moved to reach for it, but Jane was too quick.

"Oh, how clumsy of me!" she apologized softly to the footman. "Thank you very much, but I've got it."

Jane ducked her head under the table in order to retrieve the wayward fork. When she straightened herself again, she cast a knowing smile in Elizabeth's direction. Elizabeth had to bite back a laugh at her sister's devious actions, but the look of amusement on her lovely face told Elizabeth she didn't have to fear a scolding later. A quick glance at the men told her that neither had noticed Jane's performance, and neither had Caroline, who was petulantly picking bits of mushroom from her ragout.

When dinner came to a close, Elizabeth was sorry to be parted from Darcy for the customary separation, but was pleased by Charles' excitement at the prospect of garnering some advice from an experienced estate owner. Jane discreetly tried to hint to her husband that their guest might not wish to spend his leisure time looking over Charles' ledgers, but Darcy kindly put her at ease, saying he was glad to be of help.

The truth was, Darcy already liked Elizabeth's brother-in-law very well, and truly did not mind helping the friendly young man in any way that he could. Having had no sons of his own, Darcy had never been able to share the knowledge he had gained over the years about running an estate - farming methods, tenant relations, management of finances, and such - with anyone, and he relished the idea of assisting a young man who needed a mentor. It is an essential aspect of the human condition that human beings need to feel that they are needed by others, and Darcy was no exception.

The two gentlemen spoke of estate matters amiably over glasses of port in Charles' study for the customary quarter hour of separation before joining the ladies in the drawing room. Darcy had promised his new friend that they would spend some time the next day looking over the ledger books. Charles', who had never been much good with arithmetic or faithful record keeping, had noticed several discrepancies in the numbers, and Darcy, who was very adept at both practices, was only too happy to help him sort it out.

Upon entering the drawing room, both gentlemen moved to find seats near their respective ladies. Before he could reach Elizabeth's side, however, Darcy found himself intercepted by a cloying Caroline Bingley.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, I've heard ever so many wonderful things about your home in Derbyshire. Pemberley, is it? I would dearly love to hear more about it," she gushed.

Darcy, trying not to allow his annoyance to show, drew in a deep breath - only to be choked by the lady's excess of perfume- before replying with all the civility he was able to muster.

"Yes, Miss Bingley, my estate is called Pemberley. Has Elizabeth been telling you about it?"

Elizabeth visibly cringed at Darcy's accidental slip. He could have no way of knowing it, but the last thing Elizabeth had been wanting was for Caroline to find out that she had been to Pemberley. At least, not at that point. She could already tell that the other lady was jealous of the attention Darcy had been showing her, and might become desperate if her suspicions became any stronger. Caroline was becoming so advanced in years that she would soon be forced to don a spinster's cap if she didn't catch a husband soon. Any eligible prospect was grasped at with ruthless tenacity. Elizabeth had hoped that they could keep Caroline ignorant of Darcy's true reason for visiting until the visit was nearly at an end. Now, Caroline was sure to make his time at Neatherfield dreadfully awkward, if not downright unpleasant.

Hoping to rescue her gentleman from the simpering woman's unwanted advances, Elizabeth quickly expressed a desire for some music.

"Miss Bingley, I wonder if you might be convinced to play for us," she began. "Your level of accomplishment far exceeds my own, and I'm sure Mr. Darcy would enjoy some music."

Unfortunately, Caroline Bingley had been acquainted with Elizabeth for long enough to know something of her devious ways. It was clear that the grasping little chit wanted Mr. Darcy all to herself, and was trying to get Caroline out of her way. Well, she simply wasn't going to fall for it, not this time.

"_Darling_ Eliza," she drawled in that sickeningly sweet tone she often employed on those she thought beneath her, "you give yourself far too little credit. Indeed, I believe it is you who are the superior performer. Perhaps _you_ would grace us with a performance, instead."

Elizabeth, fortunately for both Darcy and Jane, who was becoming more anxious by the moment, was one step ahead of Miss Bingley.

"I thank you for your kind and sincere complement, _sweetest_ Caro," she answered, mocking Miss Bingley's cloying tone. "You leave me no choice but to oblige. Mr. Darcy, would you be so kind as to turn the pages for me?"

Darcy smiled fondly at Elizabeth's clever handling of the situation.

_Oh, how I adore that woman! _

"Of course, Miss Bennet. I would be happy to turn the pages for you. If you would excuse me, Miss Bingley."

"But...uhg!" Caroline threw herself into the nearest available chair, frustrated and angry that Elizabeth had, once again, gotten the better of her.

A smugly smiling Elizabeth seated herself behind the instrument, scooting as far as she could to one side so that Darcy could seat himself beside her. As they were hidden from the eyes of their companions by the large pianoforte, he felt daring enough to place a hand on the small of her back, gently rubbing circles over the soft fabric of her gown as she began to play. Elizabeth was sure her performance suffered greatly from her distraction, but she couldn't care. She relished the closeness to Darcy, and the tender attention he was bestowing upon her.

Seeing that the room's occupants had engaged themselves in conversation, and that no eyes were currently turned in their direction, Elizabeth leaned closer to Darcy and began to speak quietly to him.

"Mr. Darcy, I wonder if you would be interested in a private tour of my brother's library later in the evening. It hardly compares to your own fine collection at Pemberley, but I believe we might find something there to interest you."

Darcy, picking up on her devious tone, allowed the hand that rested on her back to drift around until to circled her waist, and he pulled her as close to his side as he possibly could in the small space.

"My darling, I can think of nothing I would like better," he whispered in her ear in reply. "You have only to name a time, and I will be there."

Elizabeth smiled victoriously, both at his acquiescence to her scheme and the endearment he had bestowed upon her, and named midnight as the hour of their meeting. She hoped he wouldn't think her too forward, but his masculine scent and the delicious heat of him that enveloped her so pleasantly had made her nearly desperate to be in his arms again. A week apart really was too long.

"It's down the south corridor. The big double doors on the left, facing the east," she whispered back.

"I'll be there," Darcy reaffirmed. "I can scarcely wait."

Glancing back towards the rest of the company to ensure they weren't being observed, Darcy leaned towards Elizabeth and lightly brushed his lips over the softness of her neck. She inclined her head to give him better access, which he took advantage of by peppering soft kisses down the length of her neck to the top of her shoulder. Elizabeth looked up just in time to see Jane looking at them in amused astonishment. Both ladies blushed and looked down at their hands. Jane never seemed to miss a thing, even should she wish to.

After Elizabeth had played several pleasant tunes, she and Darcy rejoined the group for tea and some amicable conversation. Elizabeth had to hold back her laugher at Jane's frequent blushes whenever her eyes happened to turn in Mr. Darcy's, or Elizabeth's, direction. This amused Elizabeth greatly.

Miss Bingley's jealousy had become, unfortunately, more disconcerting than amusing to Elizabeth as the night wore on. The lady had become very quiet, a sure sign that she was stewing over something. Caroline Bingley was rarely silent for long periods. Elizabeth was glad that she was staying the night, as it was clear she would need to defend her territory with a husband hunter like Miss Bingley on the prowl. She was secure in Darcy's attachment to her, and had no doubt of his devotion to her over any other lady. It was Miss Bingley's deviousness that concerned her. She would have to warn Darcy to be on his guard when in her presence.

At last, the party broke up to retire to their respective chambers when the expectant mother announced her growing fatigue. Charles, ever the concerned father-to-be, placed a protective arm about his wife's shoulders and escorted her to her chambers. This left Elizabeth, Caroline, and Darcy quite alone in the drawing room. Elizabeth, quite against her will, found herself engaged in a staring contest with Caroline, the prize being time alone with the eligible gentleman. Seeing the impasse that the two ladies had reached, Darcy tore himself from Elizabeth's side to retire first. With a meaningful glance back at his lady, he turned and strode quickly from the room.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Caroline, and bid the red-faced woman a good night, before leaving for her own chamber. Caroline stood silently fuming for several more moments before leaving for hers, not wishing to be obliged to walk with the disagreeable Elizabeth on the way.

When Elizabeth reached her chamber, she was surprised to find a nightgown-clad Jane waiting there for her.

"Jane, dearest, I thought you had retired," she spoke in greeting.

"I just wanted to have a word with you first, Lizzy," Jane explained. "You see, I have this feeling - call it "married woman's intuition" if you will - that you haven't said your final goodnights to your Mr. Darcy as of yet."

"Oh, Jane, you don't miss a thing, do you?" Lizzy sighted good-humoredly.

"I only wish you would be careful, Lizzy," her elder sister admonished. "You and Mr. Darcy are both adults. I cannot tell you what you can and cannot do in your private moments. But, as you are in my house, I do think it reasonable to request that you use discretion. Don't let any of the servants see you alone together. They're loyal, but they may still talk."

"I won't, Jane," Lizzy assured her. "We'll wait to meet until the servants have retired."

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of this, Lizzy, but, if a child is born only seven or eight months into your marriage, people will talk," Jane continued.

"Never fear on that score, sister," Elizabeth was quick to reassure her. "It's nothing like that. We only want to spend some time together, that's all. Mr. Darcy is a gentleman, through and through. He would never press me for more than kisses until I am his wife. Besides, I need to warn him about what he'll face at Longbourn on the morrow, so we will need to employ our lips in other, less enjoyable, pursuits for some of the time."

Both sisters laughed at Elizabeth's silliness, and moved on to more pleasant discussion.

"I must admit, you haven't exaggerated your Mr. Darcy's handsomeness, not one bit," Jane offered sincerely. "He looks very young and fit for his age. You would think he and Papa were a decade apart in age rather than mere years."

"Isn't he simply beautiful, Jane? I could admire him for hours."

"Yes, he is," Jane agreed. "Of course, as a married woman, I must say he's nothing to my Charles."

Elizabeth laughed, and told her sister that they would have to agree to disagree on that score. After a few more minutes of happy conversation between bosom confidants, Jane assisted Elizabeth into her nightgown - a service they had once performed for each other before Jane's marriage - then departed for her own room.


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Surprise! Double post today! The "treat" I promised you at the end of chapter 15 got pushed over a chapter, so I decided to go ahead and post both. Enjoy!

_Chapter 17_

Once left alone, Elizabeth took her time removing each of the pins from her hair and meticulously brushing it until it was shiny and smooth. She started to braid it, but decided to simply tie it back loosely with a ribbon instead. She would braid it before getting into bed, but, for the time being, she wanted to look pretty for Darcy. Glancing at the clock, she saw she still had an hour's time before their scheduled meeting, but she departed for the library anyway, thinking to find a book to occupy her until midnight, and Darcy, arrived.

She arrived at the library to find it terribly cold and dark, and was able to locate a footman still awake who could light a fire for her. She was pleased to hear from the young man that he was the only one of the staff who had yet to retire, and he planned on doing so as soon as Elizabeth dismissed him. With a kind word of thanks, she released him, and was left alone in the dimly-lit library.

Elizabeth knew just where to find the books her father had gifted the Bingleys with. They were all together on one shelf. She scanned the titles, which ranged from the classic works of Homer and Milton to more modern volumes of poetry or satire, such as Golding's _The Vicar of Wakefield. _She noticed the title _Tom Jones_ amidst all the more respectable volumes, and had to laugh at her father's puckish ways. She wondered if Darcy would see the humor in the placement of the notorious book, as she and her father did.

Selecting the large volume that held Shakespeare's complete words, she seated herself in a comfortable chair by the fire to try to entertain herself until the appointed time when Darcy would appear.

The door creaked quietly open at ten 'till, admitting Darcy's imposing form into the quiet room. He closed and locked the door behind him, not wanting to take any chances with Elizabeth's reputation (at least not more than they were already taking).

They appraised each other's casual attire for several quiet moments before either made any move to initiate conversation. Darcy had removed his jacket and cravat, and had opened the buttons of his shirt until it met the top of his waistcoat, giving Elizabeth a tantalizing glimpse of his chest. He was mildly ashamed that this had been an intentional ploy to look as appealing to his lady as he possibly could, but he wasn't a bit sorry for it. By the looks of it, Elizabeth had entertained a similar notion.

She was dressed in a simple, light, summer nightgown, covered by a pretty, though also simple, dressing gown of pale pink silk. This had been a gift from her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner who owned a warehouse that offered such finery. She was glad she had it, as she thought it made her look very pretty and appealing. The look on Mr. Darcy's face hinted at his approval as he drank in her appearance.

Elizabeth was the first to move, standing and striding across the room until she was close enough to rest her hands on either side of Darcy's waist. He reciprocated by placing his hands on each of her silk-clad shoulders.

"You look lovely, Elizabeth," he whispered reverently, still awed by the sight of her in night attire.

"I'm glad you think so," she answered, pleased by his sincere compliment.

"Will you allow me to hold you?" he asked, his voice trembling with need and arousal.

"Of course I will," Elizabeth answered. "I long for you to hold me, but, first, we must have some conversation. There's something...I need to warn you about, actually."

"Perhaps you will allow me to hold you while you warn me about whatever it is you feel you have to warn me about," Darcy replied with a happy smile.

"I'm not sure I shall be able to speak coherently with your arms anywhere near my person, but I suppose I shall simply have to do my best," Elizabeth conceded joyfully.

Taking his hand in hers, she led Darcy to one of the two plush arm chairs in front of the fire, thinking he would ask her to seat herself upon his lap. He surprised her by taking the pillows from each of the chairs and throwing them down on the rug, seating them both on the floor instead. He positioned her between his knees with her back resting against his hard chest as they faced the fire together. Elizabeth shivered with anticipation as his hands slipped back and forth over the smooth silk that encased her arms where they rested across her middle.

"Now, Elizabeth, what is this warning you must give me?" he began. "It sounds rather ominous."

"Oh, nothing so very bad," she began. "I simply want you to be prepared for...for your introduction to the remainder of my family tomorrow."

"All your relations I've had the pleasure of knowing thus far have been very admirable and worthy people. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," Darcy reassured her, sensing her anxiety.

"I'm afraid I do, Mr. Darcy..."

"George, please," he interrupted her.

"Hm?"

"Please call me George, darling," he explained. "We needn't be so formal in such an intimate setting."

Elizabeth beamed at the honor of being asked to use his Christian name, and readily acquiesced.

"Very well, George. Now, as I was saying, I do have a need to warn you about my mother and younger sisters. Unlike my aunt and uncle, and my sister and brother, my mother can be rather...exuberant. Well, it's more than that, sadly. She seems...Well, her sense of propriety isn't all that it should be, especially when it comes to the things she says. My next youngest sister, Mary, isn't very terrible, but my two youngest sisters are a bit...embarrassingly lively, I'm afraid. My father has made very little effort to curb any of them, I'm ashamed to say. I fear you will face some mortification at their hands before you can escape back to Derbyshire."

"Don't worry, Elizabeth," Darcy was reassured her. "You met Lady Catherine. I'm quite able to handle myself in the presence of overly-verbose women. As for your sisters, I understand they're both young. Their youth must serve as their excuse."

"I'm afraid you won't feel so generous after you meet them. It is probably worse than you are imagining."

"In any case," Darcy continued, "I'm not here to make my choice. I've already made it. Do you understand that, Elizabeth?"

Daring to allow herself to hope that all would be well, Elizabeth nodded silently and relaxed in his arms. Darcy's way with words never ceased to astound her. He could be so eloquent when alone with just her. Nobody not privy to his private demeanor would believe it if she told them. He had just as good as said he had already decided to propose to her without actually saying it. Her heart fluttered in anticipation of that moment. It certainly couldn't come soon enough for her.

Deciding she had had enough of talking for the night, Elizabeth turned toward Darcy, angling her lips up to be kissed. He readily obliged, touching his lips lightly to hers at first, teasing her with feathery strokes and fleeting caresses.

He was driving Elizabeth mad. Finally having had enough of his teasing, Elizabeth pushed herself up onto her knees, pressing her lips to his with passionate force. Her sudden movement caused Darcy to lean backwards until he simply allowed himself to be pushed onto his back on the rug with Elizabeth hovering over him. Realized the intimacy of such a position, Elizabeth tried to pull away, but Darcy wouldn't allow it. He gripped her waist tightly, holding her tightly to his body and encouraging her to continue as they had been.

Seeing that he was not offended by her forwardness, Elizabeth complied, hovering over him and kissing his parted lips deeply and ardently. She relished his helpless moan as she slipped her tongue past his lips, experimenting with varying touches to discover which he seemed to prefer. Noting that he shivered all over when she lightly flicked her tongue against the sensitive roof of his mouth, she moved on to trailing kisses down his open collar until she reached the soft curls on his upper chest.

Darcy breathed heavily as he allowed her exploration, relishing the feel of her lips and hands on him. He knew that it was best if he lay passively as he was and allowed Elizabeth to set the pace, fearing a loss of control should he become the aggressor. Elizabeth shattered his noble resolution, however, by slipping her hands into the arm holes of his waistcoat, inadvertently brushing his sensitive nipples with her fingertips.

In only a second, he had her pinned underneath him, her lips parting to receive his passionate exploration as he pressed the length of his body onto hers. God, she was so soft! so warm! so perfect! He had dreamt often of having her under him like this, feeling her sweet feminine form writing under his ministrations. He wished there wasn't the barrier of their clothing between them, that he could feel her skin against his, that he could join intimately with her and claim her as his for life. He would never do that to her though, not until they were married in the eyes of God and man. She was too precious to him. He knew that, even at that moment, he wasn't treating her with the respect and reverence she deserved. It wasn't enough to make him stop, however, especially when Elizabeth seemed to be enjoying herself as much as she, evidently, was.

Elizabeth was in heaven. The heavy feel of him on top of her was something she had always craved, however unconsciously so. It was nice not to have to crane her neck to kiss him deeply, and she took full advantage of the fact. She suckled his tongue, then each of his lips, in turn. Darcy growled in approval. Elizabeth had become quite a proficient kisser in a very short time, and he felt a great deal of masculine pride in the fact that it was under his tutelage that she became so. He couldn't claim any special level of skill in that area, but had merely managed to unleash in Elizabeth that which was already there, laying dormant just under the surface - a very passionate and sensual woman.

Elizabeth breathed his name as his lips moved down her cheek and neck. He drew aside the collar of her nightgown to nip at her collarbones, so fragile and perfect in the dappled light of the fire. His fingers found her long hair where it lay over her breast, and he traced the length of it, delighting in the fact that, in doing so, he was, surreptitiously, able to trace the full swell of one perfect mound. Drawing back for a moment, he lifted the long bundle into his hand, gazing at the length and fine texture of it.

"I never realized your hair was this long, Elizabeth," he observed admiringly. "Please promise me you'll never cut it."

Finding herself unequal to speech at the moment, Elizabeth nodded her consent to his request. For a moment, the two merely gazed into each other's eyes, Darcy's free hand still sliding through the silk of Elizabeth's hair, and her hands savoring the firmness of his chest through his waistcoat.

The moment had given Darcy some measure of control back. Knowing it was dangerous for them to continue in this vein, but loath to cease all intimate activities as of yet, he moved to lay on his side next to Elizabeth, encouraging her to turn towards him. Now facing each other, they scooted close, allowing their hands to, still respectfully of all overly-intimate areas, tentatively trace the other's shape. Their lips met again, more slowly and sweetly this time, though no less passionately.

The clock chimed the first hour of the new day, and Darcy knew he had to allow Elizabeth to return to her room to sleep. Truthfully, he was greatly in need of rest, himself. He did need to recover from the several days of nearly unbroken travel, save the one day in London, he had just passed.

Pulling Elizabeth flush against him for one final, probing kiss, Darcy reluctantly released her and pulled himself into a sitting position.

"We really should retire now, darling," he said regretfully, offering his hand to assist her into a sitting position as well. "I must leave you, though I know I would sleep much better with you by my side."

Elizabeth blushed at the thought, but wholeheartedly agreed. She was sure that, if she went with him right then to his bed, sleeping wouldn't be on the agenda for several hours yet. Elizabeth was beginning to think that twenty years as a maiden was quite enough for her. What she had experienced thus far with Darcy was beyond delicious, and she greatly anticipated the day when they could discover even more. She was tempted to press him for a bit more before they parted ways, but decided not to. He was clearly trying to do what he thought was best for her, and she would allow his gallantry. At any rate, he was absolutely right that they needed to draw a line somewhere for their more physical acquaintance. He hadn't even spoken to her father about courting her yet, let alone marrying her.

Darcy wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to sit close by his side for several happy moments before saying goodnight. Feeling the need to touch him somehow, Elizabeth's hand moved under his trouser leg to feel the hard swell of his stockinged calf. She loved that he was so strong. It seemed that everywhere her hands wandered they encountered another firm muscle to caress.

Too soon, Darcy stood to his feet, pulling Elizabeth up with him. They said their first round of goodnights at the library door, which Darcy opened quietly before peeking out into the corridor to ensure that they were alone. The walked hand in hand down the darkened hallways until the place where they would have to separate to go down different hallways to their rooms. After a moment's hesitation, Darcy decided he would never be able to sleep until he saw Elizabeth safely delivered to her room. At her door, he pulled her into his arms for one last, tender kiss.

"Sleep well, my darling," he crooned into her ear. "Dream of me."

"You know I will, George. After that beautiful interlude, how could I dream of anything else?"

"You are an angel to allow me such generous liberties with you. Perhaps you deserve a younger man who could stay by the fire with you all night to attend to your pleasure. I fear I'm nearly dead on my feet."

"George, please don't say such things," Elizabeth quickly shot back, saddened that he would ever think that he might not be enough for her. "I have no desire for you to be any different. I like you just as you are."

"Do you truly not mind my age, Elizabeth?" he asked, suddenly feeling in need of reassurance on that point.

"Not only do I not mind it, I...I find that it is one of the things I like about you. For instance," she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, "I adore these little patches of silver hairs just above your temples."

Her fingers then traced down over his brow to rest on his hight cheek bones.

"And I love the way your eyes crease slightly around the edges when you smile."

Darcy grimaced.

"I believe those are called "crow's feet," Elizabeth."

"Well, I like them. I care not what silly name you have for them."

With that, she threw her arms around him and pulled him towards her, kissing the area being discussed, before peppering kisses all over his face, hoping to reassure him of her admiration.

"I find you a terribly handsome man, George. You need have no worries in that regard."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he smiled, returning her tender kisses. "And I find you a bewitchingly lovely young lady. Much too lovely for my peace of mind, in fact."

Elizabeth smiled and reached up to kiss his lips one final time before drawing back, knowing they couldn't linger any longer in her doorway.

Darcy lifted both her hands to his lips for light kisses before tearing himself away to find his own room. Despite his troublesome arousal, he slept very well that night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, she finally found the time to warn Darcy. Do you think he took it seriously enough? Looks questionable to me. Anybody notice who she didn't remember to warn him about? Uh-oh, Elizabeth!

While we're on the subject of Caroline Bingley, I just want to reassure everyone that she won't do anything outrageous, like sneak into Darcy's room to compromise him, or anything. I won't write her as being any worse than Jane Austen did.

I hope everybody enjoyed their little treat! There's definitely more where that came from in future chapters. ;)

Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: **So sorry for the wait, guys! For some reason, this chapter was kinda hard to write. Can't really put my finger on why, but it is what it is. At least I posted two chapters at once last time, so I guess I'm entitled to some mercy from my darling readers. :)

It's the moment we've all been waiting for, folks! Have your smelling salts and fainting couch close at hand!

* * *

><p>The rain ceased at some point during the small hours of the morning, and, though it was still a bit damp out, Elizabeth desired to show Darcy her favorite prospect from the top of Oakham Mount. He readily agreed to her suggestion of a walk, eager for a few more precious moments alone with her before their courtship became official and vigilant chaperones became an ever-present hindrance to their blossoming physical relationship. They walked, very properly, arm in arm while on the public roads, but, once they began to make their way through the dewey grass in the pleasant, secluded "wilds of Hertfordshire," - as Elizabeth affectionately dubbed the untamed fields through which she often traversed - they waked hand in hand.<p>

When they finally reached their destination, Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his embrace as he looked over the fine prospect. He would always prefer the scenery of his own homeland to any other, but he found much to admire in the Hertfordshire countryside, not the least of which attractions being the lovely creature in his arms.

Elizabeth rested her cheek against the firmness of his chest, squeezing her arms tightly around his waist, and breathed a happy sigh of contentment. It was impossible to be anything but perfectly happy when he held her like this. She closed her eyes to better savor the moment.

A delighted smile spread across Elizabeth's face as she felt her lover's firm lips begin brushing against her hair, then her brow, temple, cheek, and the corner of her mouth. Lifting her head only slightly, she met his lips with hers for a deep, intimate kiss. She readily parted her lips to receive his tongue, which sought hers in a passionate tangle. His arms crushed her to him, and she could feel that he wanted her. She never ceased to be amazed that such a man could find anything so special in her as to wish to take her for his bride, but she was beginning to accept it as truth. He was there, in Hertfordshire, with her and for her. Soon, she would walk back to Longbourn, and he would walk back to Netherfield to dress formally for the much-anticipated visit. For the first time, she could think on the events that would take place that day with a small kind of peace in her heart and mind, which she knew stemmed from Darcy's heartfelt assurances that all would be well.

* * *

><p>The ladies of Longbourn all sat very properly in the parlor, sewing or embroidery in hand. Elizabeth pretended, every once in while, to make a stitch, but she knew it was a futile effort. Her hands trembled so that any stitch she made would need to be taken out anyway. Not to mention, she would probably prick her finger and spoil the cloth by bleeding on it. Eventually, she put her embroidery away, and rose to watch at the widow for Darcy's appearance.<p>

"Oh, do come sit down, Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet chided. "You shall become horribly freckled standing by the window like that. Mr. Darcy won't want you then."

Elizabeth sighed and moved to a chair that was far enough away from the window to appease her mother, whom she had no desire to agitate so soon before Darcy's visit, but still in a position from which she would see the carriage the moment it pulled into the drive. She hoped desperately that Jane and Charles would accompany Darcy on the visit. She was almost certain they would, as both had promised to be of help to her, but she wouldn't be easy until she was certain.

Glancing about the room, she gauged the respective moods of her mother and three younger sisters. Mary was, per her mother's insistence, practicing embroidering her initials on a linen handkerchief, though, she could tell by the look on Mary's face, that she would much rather be reading one of her terribly dull books on morality. Kitty and Lydia both had their heads bowed over their samplers. Occasionally, a brief whisper or giggle would reach her ears from the corner in which they were ensconced. Her mother was working diligently on one of her father's shirts, mending a cuff that had been torn. Elizabeth was briefly distracted by the thought that it was fortunate that Mr. Darcy could afford a valet, as she had never been any good at mending.

"Look! The carriage is coming!" Lydia suddenly exclaimed, jolting Elizabeth out of her pensive state.

"Oh, good heavens!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, stuffing the disregarded shirt into her sewing basket, which she quickly set aside before rushing over to Elizabeth's side.

"Now, Lizzy, we must make sure you look your best," she fussed, reaching up to pinch Elizabeth's cheeks painfully.

"Mama...Mama, please!" Elizabeth protested futilely. "Mr. Darcy has already seen me on several occasions. I'm sure we needn't worry about making any kind of spectacular impression."

Undeterred by Elizabeth's words, Mrs. Bennet began tugging on Elizabeth's neckline, exposing more of her ample bosom.

"Mama, really!" Elizabeth finally swatted her mother's hands away, and began to make her way over to the settee, which she intended to share with Darcy, once he made it safely into the parlor. She took several deep breaths to try to calm her nerves, which met with only limited success.

"Oh, Lordy, how handsome he is!" Lydia effused, fanning herself with her hand. "And so expensively dressed!"

"He could pass for a duke! A prince, even!" Kitty joined in.

"What a pity he's nearly Papa's age," Lydia continued. "He must have been a real catch when he was young. But, then, he never would have condescended to court the likes of you, Lizzy!"

"Lydia, hold your tongue, and come sit down! They'll be announced in a moment," Elizabeth scolded her pouting sister.

Lydia stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth, but returned to her seat beside Kitty. Mary muttered something about worldly concerns and the importance of character over appearance, but nobody paid her any mind.

Elizabeth, despite being perfectly aware that the guests were about to be shown in, jumped anxiously in her seat as the door swung open.

"Mr. Bingley, Mrs. Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Mr. Darcy, Madam," Mr. Hill announced.

The Bennet ladies all rose gracefully to their feet as the visitors entered. Elizabeth's palms began to dampen, and she wiped them subtilely on her dress, pretending to smooth imaginary wrinkles from the fabric. She was tremendously relieved that Jane and Charles had been able to come. Surely, together, they could see to it that none of their relatives did anything overly embarrassing. The presence of Caroline Bingley was unfortunate, but even Caroline might prove useful in distracting her mother. When Mrs. Bennet had made the fortuitous discovery that her new son-in-law's sister shared her love of excessive lace, the topic had to be thoroughly covered at each possible opportunity, much to Miss Bingley's chagrin.

Then he was there. In her home. In her parlor. He seemed so out of place in the home of her childhood, standing tall and proud and handsome as ever. Elizabeth's heart flipped, as it always did when she was in his presence. She was so drawn to him, it took all her self-command not to rush to his side, especially considering the way Caroline Bingley's claws were attached to his arm.

Charles, grinning and gregarious as ever, took it upon himself to perform the introductions.

"Mr. Darcy, may I introduce the lady of the house, Mrs. Bennet, as well as her three youngest daughters, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia."

Elizabeth watched nervously as each of the ladies curtseyed it turn.

"Ladies, it's a pleasure," Darcy greeted them politely, dropping an elegant bow.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet spoke in that simpering tone that instantly provoked Elizabeth's concern, "it's so good of you to condescend to visit our humble corner of the world. My Lizzy tells me your home is quite the finest she has ever had the privilege of staying in."

"It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Bennet. I'm honored to be a guest in your fine home. I am happy to hear that Pemberley met with Miss Bennet's approval." Darcy replied politely.

"Oh, indeed it did, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet continued, to Elizabeth's chagrin. "It seems just the sort of home my Lizzy would flourish as mistress of. She does so love rambling about in the outdoors, but I'm sure she would make an excellent and obedient wife once she's taken in hand."

"Oh, Mama! Really!" Elizabeth hissed under her breath, already mortified with the direction the visit was taking.

Darcy had to admit a certain degree of shock and dismay at Mrs. Bennet's forward and indelicate speech. He hadn't even asked for permission to court Elizabeth yet, and her mother was already taking his offer of marriage for granted. He was beginning to understand why Elizabeth had felt she needed to warm him.

After tactfully extracting his arm from Miss Bingley's grasp, Darcy took a seat next to Elizabeth on the settee, accepting a cup of tea poured by her own delicate hands. He smiled at her as she handed it to him, hoping to reassure her, as she was obviously disquieted. He understood why she would be embarrassed by her mother's behavior, but hoped he had made it clear that he wouldn't allow anything to alter his feelings for her. Mrs. Bennet wasn't the first ambitious mother to attempt to promote her daughter to him, after all, so he wasn't as shocked as Elizabeth probably thought he was.

Not surprisingly, Caroline positioned herself as close to Darcy as she possibly could, making it impossible for Elizabeth to converse privately with him. Jane and Charles had immediately set about the task of distracting Mrs. Bennet with mundane talk about the weather and the upcoming card party at Lucus Lodge, hoping to keep her from making their guest, or Elizabeth, uncomfortable with constant talk of marriage and Elizabeth's few dubious merits and great many faults. Elizabeth, while grateful for this small grace, still found much to be desired in the behavior of her two youngest sisters. While she tried to keep Darcy distracted from the goings-on in the rest of the room with constant conversation, she - and, she knew, he as well- could hear snatches of the younger girls' conversation, as well as frequent juvenile giggles and a rather unladylike snort. Caroline's triumphant grin each time something mildly embarrassing occurred during the visit made Elizabeth wish she were less of a lady so that she could give the jealous wretch a piece of her mind.

Despite his good intentions, Darcy failed to curtail the disapproving look that crossed his face as he glanced at the two tittering girls in the corner of the room. He distinctly heard something about officers and stealing kisses behind the staircase during an assembly. Elizabeth had heard it too, and was utterly mortified. It had been several months since the removal of the militia to Brighton, but Kitty and Lydia still constantly relived what they saw as some very good times. To Elizabeth, the memories were mortifying in the extreme. The image of Lydia running through the assembly hall brandishing one of the officer's swords came to mind, and she felt her face grown hot.

And where - for heaven's sake! - was her father? Of course, the question was purely rhetorical, as she knew he was in his book room, as usual. Their guests had arrived nearly a quarter hour past, and he had not yet shown his face. That was just like her father. While she had always loved him dearly, she had never approved of his indolence. He never wished to exert himself to check the incessant prattling of his wife, nor to curtail the wild antics of his youngest daughters. He had never cared if his neighbors labeled him as rude or antisocial because he would rather remain at home than be in company with any of them. Apparently, making new acquaintances and maintaining old ones were activities not worth the exertion of giving up a few hours with his books. Elizabeth had always known all this about him, and she had always found a way to forgive or excuse him for it. After all, what were his flaws compared to those of her mother and youngest sisters? But now that she had finally found a good, wonderful man who adored her and wished to woo her, he couldn't exert himself to walk the ten steps from the door of his book room to the door of the parlor to so much as be introduced. It was insufferable! How could he care so little for her feelings and desires?

Darcy noticed Elizabeth's frustration, and tried to get her to confide in him.

"Elizabeth," he spoke very softly so that no one would overhear his familiar address. "Is anything the matter, darling?"

"I was..." she began falteringly, forcing herself to confide in the man she hoped to, very soon, call her husband, despite her natural tendency towards keeping her own confidence. "I was just wondering why my father hasn't come to meet you yet."

Fortunately for Elizabeth and Darcy, Mrs. Bennet chose that moment to insist that Kitty and Lydia solicit Miss Bingley's expert opinion on the bonnets they were redecorating. A clearly displeased Carline reluctantly relented, leaving them to speak in semi-privacy for a few minutes.

"I misspoke earlier, when I said I was _wondering_ why Papa isn't here," Elizabeth corrected her previous statement sharply after a moments' silence. Glancing about the room to be sure no one was paying their conversation any mind, she continued in a hushed tone. "I know why he isn't here. Papa likes to make it very clear that nobody, no matter how grand or important others say or think he or she is, is worth any time or effort on his part whatsoever. Not even a man who has come all the way here for me."

"I'm sure he is simply indisposed, and will come as soon as he can," Darcy tried to comfort her.

"No, you don't know him like I do," Elizabeth shot back. "His timing is deliberate, I can assure you. I should have warned you about him, but, sometimes, his faults can be overshadowed by the more obvious failings of my mother and younger sisters."

"Perhaps I should ask for an audience with him," Darcy whispered back. "We do need his approval and cooperation if we are to continue with this courtship, no matter his behavior towards me."

Elizabeth was preparing her response when Mrs. Bennet's grating voice interrupted her. Apparently, her sister and brother had only been able to distract her from their much more interesting visitor for so long.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, do tell us all about your lovely home in London. I do so enjoy the hustle and bustle of the season, but Mr. Bennet hates town. We haven't been in ever so many years."

Thus, for the next quarter hour, Darcy was obliged to discuss the details of his London home with Mrs. Bennet. The lady wanted to know how many rooms the house had, on what street it was situated, how many servants it housed, as well as a great many trivial details. She was quite effusive in her praise of the fashionable address and seeming splendor of all he reluctantly divulged.

"Oh, this is very good. Very, very good," Mrs. Bennet mused aloud. "Lizzy will be very well situated indeed. Even better than my Jane, here."

"Mama!" Elizabeth exclaimed before looking down at her hands, sighing in defeat. Despite all their efforts, her mother simply wouldn't be muzzled.

Caroline smiled happily when the visit was, at last, at an end. She never liked visiting her sister-in-law's embarrassing relations, and was always happy to escape their unwanted company. Her smile was immediately replaced by a scowl, however, when Mr. Darcy asked the butler to see if Mr. Bennet could spare him a few moments of his time before they took their leave.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Mr. Hill addressed Darcy after returning from his brief audience with Mr. Bennet, "the master is indisposed, and will not be available to speak with you today."

Darcy was shocked. It was almost as if Elizabeth's father was intentionally cutting him. But why? Why would a man who he hadn't even met before behave so rudely towards him? Elizabeth must have been right about her father's attitude. He tried valiantly to hide his anger from Elizabeth, but she couldn't help but note the tension in the way he held his shoulders, as well as the tight set of his jaw as he said the briefest possible goodbyes to her and her family.

After watching the Bingley carriage roll down the drive, Elizabeth made her way to her father's book room, resolved that she wouldn't leave him in peace until he accounted for his inexcusably rude behavior.

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><p><strong>AN 2:** Well, he's met *almost* everyone. Gee, thanks, dad! haha.

We'll hear Mr. Bennet's explanation next time. Elizabeth's on the war path, so it had better be a good one. :)


	20. Chapter 19

"Mr. Darcy, I feel I must apologize for my father's rudeness. I'm sure there must be some explanation for why he didn't grant you an audience. I cannot imagine that he would be so intentionally unwelcoming."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bingley. I appreciate your reassurances. I'm afraid Elizabeth does not share your positive outlook. Your father is, most likely, receiving an ear-full from her at this very moment. I'm sure I don't envy him," Darcy replied drolly.

"I agree with Jane," Mr. Bingley piped up. "There must be some explanation. I cannot imagine my father-in-law purposely cutting a man who had come to court his favorite daughter. It's not as if you're trying to take his place in her life, or anything."

For several moments, there was complete silence in the Bingley carriage. Darcy stared at the younger man in wonder. It was a rare man indeed that could say something so incredibly profound and be completely unaware of his own genius.

"Bingley, I believe you may have hit upon the crux of the matter."

"I have?" Charles looked doubtful. As had become his habit, he looked to his wife to tell him what to think about the situation.

"Charles, maybe we were both wrong," Jane clarified. "Maybe Papa feels as though Mr. Darcy is taking his place in Lizzy'a heart, as well as her life, and he is feeling rather sad about it. After all, as you made note of, she is his favorite. He loves her very dearly, and would be sad to lose her to any man. Perhaps the fact that it is a man close to his own age makes it even harder on him. It is not as if Mr. Darcy will need to seek his advice, as you do. Nor will Lizzy have need of his wisdom and guidance after her marriage because she will have Mr. Darcy to go to."

Both men remained silent, contemplating Jane's words. Darcy sighed and fixed his gaze on the passing scenery. He understood that any man fortunate enough to have Elizabeth as part of his life would be loathe to allow her to leave him, but a person must still be held accountable for the manner in which he behaves, regardless of his feelings. Elizabeth, and he, had every right to be angry with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bingley was a kind, gentle soul who would always try to see the best in others and to credit their actions with the best possible motives, but he could not think so kindly of Elizabeth's father. He had yet to meet the man, and, already, had his doubts about the strength of Mr. Bennet's character.

"I'm sure the fact that Mr. Darcy can give Elizabeth more of...what every father feels his daughter deserves than he can also weighs heavily on him," Jane continued. "Mr. Darcy is not only replacing him, but exceeding him."

Bingley grasped his wife's gloved hand in hers and lifted it to his lips for a reverent kiss.

"Jane, dearest, you amaze me, as always." Turning to address Darcy, he continued, "see, Darcy, what a fine, wise lady I've married? I'm sure Lizzy will be the voice of wisdom in your life, as well. We shall be the two luckiest men in England."

Darcy merely smiled and tipped his hat in the Bingleys' direction in acknowledgment of Mr. Bingley's statement. The grinning young man across from him couldn't possibly be above five and twenty. So young. Still so carefree. Darcy sighed again. If only he had met Elizabeth while he was still so young and lighthearted.

"Don't worry, Mr. Darcy," Jane's sweet voice pulled him from his thoughts once again. "I'm sure my father will come around."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bingley. Your support of my relationship with Elizabeth means a great deal, and I am truly grateful. She speaks very highly of you, and I can now see that her praise was not exaggerated."

Jane blushingly thanked him, and glanced demurely at her hands where they were folded in her lap.

When they arrived back at Netherfield, Bingley offered to take Darcy out on a ride over the estate, which suited Darcy very well. He was in dire need of a distraction. Anything to take his mind off of the wounded look on Elizabeth's lovely face as he had left her behind in her family's home.

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><p>Elizabeth had gone out without her bonnet or gloves, so eager was she to escape the confines of the house after her frustrating conversation with her father. Though she supposed she couldn't have expected to walk away with a more favorable result that she had obtained, the thought that her father had judged Mr. Darcy so wrongly and with so little evidence angered her. She had never known her father to be so selfish or so hard. It also pained her that her father seemed to think her singularly incapable of selecting a husband for herself. It was beyond insufferable.<p>

After Mr. Bennet's rude refusal to speak to, or even be introduced to, Darcy, Elizabeth had gone immediately to the book room, opening the door and admitting herself without even knocking first. Mr. Bennet hardly glanced up from the pages of his book at the unwelcome intrusion. Upon ascertaining that it was his second-eldest who had barged so rudely into his private sanctuary, he returned to his reading.

"Papa, how could you do that to me? How could you?" Elizabeth began as soon as the door clicked closed behind her. Already, she could feel the unwelcome sting of tears beginning to collect in her eyes. Knowing her father's opinion of emotional females, she fought to maintain her poise. The moment she started crying was the moment she lost his attention on this matter for good.

"You must be more specific, Elizabeth," Mr. Bennet muttered dryly, his eyes remaining glued to the page before him.

"I know you know perfectly well to what I refer, Papa. Why would you refuse to grant Mr. Darcy an audience? He came all this way because he wishes to court me, and you refuse to even meet him? Do my feelings matter so little to you?"

At this, Mr. Bennet tore his eyes reluctantly from his reading material. He took his time placing a marker in his spot and setting the book down on the cluttered desk before him. Elizabeth fumed as her father removed his spectacles with deliberate slowness, folding the arms one at a time before slipping them precisely into the handkerchief pocket of his jacket. Steepling his fingers on the scattering of papers that hid the scuffed mahogany of his desk, Mr. Bennet finally spoke in a calm, disinterested tone.

"Lizzy, when I saw that man from my window as he exited the carriage, I just knew he wasn't for you. Too old, too rich. Entirely too proud and somber. I find it difficult to believe that such a man could have serious, honorable intentions towards one such as yourself. I'm sorry, my dear, but I simply cannot approve this man. You'll come to see that I'm right, eventually."

Elizabeth's mouth hung open. She was stunned, flabbergasted, unable to believe what she had just heard from her beloved father's mouth.

"You mean to tell me that you formed a judgement of Mr. Darcy based on a fleeting glance?" she asked incredulously, eyebrow arched so high it disappeared under her fringe.

"Elizabeth, you know I pride myself on being an excellent judge of character. It is a trait I'm pleased to say, you inherited from me."

"If you are so "please to say," then perhaps you could explain why you so imperiously disregard _my_ judgement of the gentleman!" she cried passionately. Her father just wasn't making any sense.

"It's perfectly understandable that a young, impressionable girl like you could be swayed by a handsome face a fine manners. I shan't hold it against you, my child."

"Papa, that is utterly ridiculous! Mr. Darcy is a fine man - the best! I have never known a more decent, kind, and intelligent man in my entire life! There is none that I admire more, or desire to be more in company with! How could you be so cruel as to directly cut one that I hold so dear? Do you truly have so little care for me and my happiness?"

Mr. Bennet felt his ire rise at his daughter's harsh words. This unwelcome interloper had replaced him in her esteem, affections, and her heart. But surely Elizabeth could do better than a man twice her age, whatever the size of his annual income. Some nice local farmer or tradesman's son, perhaps, would do nicely for her. She would be settled near her home, able to spend time with her father, as she had always seemed so keen to do before the intruder had tried to usurp a father's rightful place in her heart.

Besides, Mr. Bennet, though but a humble country squire, was also a man of the world. He knew of the lascivious propensities of men of Mr. Darcy's stature in life. He would continue to play his little game with Elizabeth, to ingratiate himself with her, until he had what he wanted from her. Then, the so-called gentleman would disappear, leaving heartbreak and ruin in his wake. Yes, Elizabeth would see, in time, that this was the right course. No good could come of her trying to find a new father figure when she already had one so hole-heartedly devoted to her well-being.

"If you would only give him a chance, Papa, I think you could really like him," Elizabeth continued. "The two of you share many common interests. Besides, he is only asking for a courtship, at this point. Nothing has been settled. Won't you at least give him a chance?"

Mr. Bennet sighed deeply in exasperation. Clearly Elizabeth wouldn't be dissuaded from this course with reason alone. He would just have to indulge her, and protect her as best he could, until she eventually came to realize his point for herself. He could only hope that she wouldn't be too crushed. Besides, the conversation was waxing long, and he desired to return to his reading.

"Very well, Lizzy," he finally relented. "Tomorrow I shall meet your gentleman caller, and we shall see, soon enough, the truth of his intentions. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Thank you, Papa," Elizabeth huffed, more relieved than actually grateful. If her father had persisted in his stubbornness, she would have been obliged to beg Mr. Darcy to bring her to Gretna Green.

On second thought, an immediate elopement sounded somewhat preferable to the, possibly, months that lay ahead of them until they would be allowed to marry. If her father's current attitude was any indication, the road ahead would be a rocky one. Elizabeth sighed deeply at the thought. She wanted nothing more than to be in Darcy's arms, day and night. Knowing her father's opinion about the honorability of Darcy's intentions, they were unlikely to be afforded much, if any, time alone in the coming weeks.

Needing desperately to see Darcy, Elizabeth started immediately in the direction of Netherfield. The roads were a tad muddy, owing to recent rainfall, but she couldn't care. She could not allow Darcy to continue in the belief that her father would refuse his suit. He needed to know of the outcome of her talk with her father, and she needed to apologize, again, for the slight he had received in her home. Most importantly, she needed to be in his arms, to feel the assurance of his acceptance and affection after their cold parting at the end of his visit.

The walk to Netherfield was a full three miles, but Elizabeth was quite used to long walks. By the time the great house came into view just over the horizon, her hem was a full six inches deep in mud and her hair was beginning to escape its pins. Two riders on horseback came into her line of vision as she approached. Soon, she could discern the faces of Charles and her darling George. He seemed relaxed and comfortable seated atop a fine stallion, speaking amiably to her grinning brother. She blushed momentarily at her wild appearance and the spectacle she must be presenting to him, but her happiness to be, once again, in the presence of him who was dearest to her heart soon overrode any shame.

Darcy couldn't keep a smile from his face as Elizabeth's form came into view. If only she could see how bewitching she appeared to him. Her luscious curls had fallen sweetly around her face, which was quite beautifully flushed. Her shining eyes were brightened by the exercise. Even the mud on the hem of her dress added to her appeal. Elizabeth was so very, very different than any woman he had ever known. She was fresh, vibrant, and alive. She was simply..._real_.

"Bingley, if you don't mind, I'd like to dismount and walk with Elizabeth for a while," he announced, never taking his eyes from Elizabeth's graceful figure.

"Certainly," Charles answered. Understanding the couple's desire for solitude, he tipped his hat to Elizabeth before spurring his horse into a gallop in the direction of the stables.

Darcy dismounted and walked the rest of the way to Elizabeth, his eyes dancing over every delightful aspect of her appearance. Elizabeth was not unaware of his scrutiny, and this caused her blush to deepen. To her great delight, his gaze seemed appreciative as his eyes traced down her body and then made their way up to her face again. She smiled brightly as their eyes locked, her frustration with her father's behavior momentarily forgotten.

"Elizabeth, you look utterly enchanting," Darcy spoke as he reached her, taking one of her ungloved hands in his.

Smiling serenely, Elizabeth stepped closer and placed her free hand on Darcy's strong chest, drawing comfort from his closeness and his familiar sandalwood scent.

"George," she began, her voice thick with admiration and sincerity, "you are the most wonderful, gracious man I have every know. That you would...greet me with such affection after the abhorrent manner in which my own father treated you, and...the very obvious machinations of my mother...the crassness of my younger sisters. It is truly a wonder that you..."

"No, Elizabeth," he interrupted her. "There is nothing remarkable...about a man very deeply and ardently in love with a truly remarkable woman."

Catching her breath at his words, the first words of love to be spoken between them, Elizabeth withdrew her hand from his and reached up to cradle his handsome face in her hands. For a moment, she merely let her fingers and eyes roam over his beloved features, caught up in her love for him and in his newly-revealed love for her. His chocolate eyes were shining with emotion and desire, and she found herself falling into them, pulled in by their allure.

Darcy held the reins of his borrowed horse in one hand, and, with the other, he encircled Elizabeth's waist, pulling her close to him for a slow, probing kiss. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling his tall frame down so that her lips could mesh completely with his, tongues tangling in a slow dance. It was so forbidden, this precious intimacy between them, but in her heart Elizabeth knew it could never be wrong. Her father may not have given his consent, but her heart had. Body, heart, and soul, she was his and his alone. Nothing and no one would ever change that. There could be nothing wrong with holding him close, kissing him intimately, and whispering words of love and desire in his ear as his lips moved down her jaw and the column of her neck... so she did.

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><p><strong>AN: **Sorry for the long wait between updates, everybody! I tried to give you a little treat at the end of this chapter to somewhat make up for it. I just love that visual: Darcy, tall and handsome and impeccably dressed, his arm wrapped around a disheveled Elizabeth's waist as they kiss passionately - horse in the background. ;) Hope it also compensates a bit for Mr. Bennet's sorry attitude. Grrr! I love the character of Mr. Bennet, so I kinda hate writing him as a semi-villain. Don't despair, my dears. He'll come 'round.

Ok, as far as timing for the next several updates goes, it may be a bit of a wait between each one for a little while. We just got a purchase agreement on our house and are negotiating on a new place, so the next couple months will be crazy for me. I thank you all in advance for your patience as I move and do all that crazy stuff.

Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait...again. Thanks, everyone, for sticking with me. You all are the best!

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><p>Elizabeth decided to forgo her customary morning stroll in favor of a leisurely morning spent in solitary contemplation on the window seat in her bedchamber. Feeling unequal to sitting across from her father in his book room, as she usually did, she asked for a tea tray in her room. Until her father had proven his remorse for his abominable behavior of the previous morning by speaking to Darcy and bestowing his blessing on their relationship, Elizabeth wasn't sure she could be comfortable in his presence.<p>

She was eager for their official courtship to commence, not because she necessarily looked forward to mundane teas in the drawing room and chaperoned walks in the garden, but because she was anxious to emerge on the other side of the supposedly necessary season of courtship as Mr. Darcy's intended bride. It had scarcely been a week since she had left Pemberley, yet she missed it terribly. To Elizabeth, Pemberley was already her home. She belonged there with the man she had chosen to spend her life with, and she was most anxious that all should be as it ought to be. Her lot in life had been chosen, her course charted, and she saw no sense at all in dawdling around with formalities when she had a _life_ to live.

When the appropriate hour for social calls finally rolled around, she glanced one last time at her appearance in the glass and made her way downstairs. She found her mother and sister Mary congregated in the front parlor. Elizabeth seated herself in a chair nearest the front window. From there, she was able to watch as Darcy's mounted figure came into view as he rode up the drive towards the front door.

Eager to greet Darcy before he sequestered himself away with her father, Elizabeth jumped from her seat and made haste out into the hall where she watched fondly as he handed his coat, gloves, and hat to Mr. Hill. She watched happily as his luminous eyes creased around the edges as he smiled at her, perfect rows of white teeth prominently displayed.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet," he greeted her properly, mindful of the presence of a servant.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied, offering him her hand as he approached.

With a dark look that suggested he wished to do much more, he raised her hand to his lips for a kiss that lingered only slightly longer than was strictly proper. Mr. Hill busied himself with hanging Mr. Darcy's coat meticulously on a hook, allowing them a modicum of privacy. Seeing this, Elizabeth quickly leaned forward and gave him a soft peck on the lips. His answering smile was so endearing that she very nearly lost her ability to stop at only one kiss. His dimples couldn't possibly have looked more kissable.

Before another word could be spoken between them, the book room door creaked open, revealing Mr. Bennet's slightly hunched figure.

Elizabeth's father had spent the morning in quiet reflection on something besides one of his books - an anomaly that would have shocked anybody who knew him well, as his books were his favorite subjects of contemplation to the exclusion of all else. Mr. Bennet had never been much prone to introspection, but he was, upon occasion, known to make a study of himself, in very much the same manner in which he studied others. He discovered that such an exercise could be extremely interesting, as one does not often know his own mind as much as he might think. Though such revelations often paint the thinker in an unflattering light, they may, sometimes, offer helpful insight that can assist in smoothing over a rough patch in that mysterious road that is his life. Ultimately, the favorable result of being able to return his full and undivided attention to his favorite tomes is achieved, without the unwanted interruptions of little things like his conscience or his better judgement.

At dawn that morning Mr. Bennet had deserted his bed, donned his house shoes and dressing gown, and made his way downstairs. He ordered a pot of strong tea from a bleary-eyed Mrs. Hill, then made himself comfortable in his favorite chair by the fire in his book room. Over tea and hazelnut biscuits he had pondered his conversation with Elizabeth from the day before. It was true that he had formed his initial judgement of Mr. Darcy based on only his knowledge of the social sphere in which the gentleman traveled. Here, he was forced to acknowledge that, throughout his many years of observation of the human species, he had noted that there were exceptions to the rule in every social strata. This led to the conclusion that it was possible that Mr. Darcy could be one of them. His daughter certainly seemed to think so, and, up until that point, Mr. Bennet had trusted her judgement. After all, had he himself not personally taught her everything she now knew? He would, of course, still wish to form his own judgement of the gentleman before making any decisions about allowing Elizabeth to spend much time in his company.

_I suppose that requires that I spend some time in the illustrious Mr. Darcy's company myself, _he concluded with a sigh. _Elizabeth said the gentleman and I have much in common. I suppose we'll see about that. _

So, Mr. Bennet formed his resolution to meet, and study, the newcomer in order to gauge his worthiness to steal away the priceless jewel that was his daughter, Elizabeth Rose.

Another sigh, deeper and more heartfelt than the first, escaped him at the thought of her leaving him for another. It was a painful thought, and one he wasn't quite ready to entertain. Losing his sweet Jane had been difficult enough, but Elizabeth, his Lizzy, was the light of his life. Losing her to any man would be hard, but the thought of losing her to a man like Mr. Darcy...

What if Mr. Darcy did not remain faithful to her as a husband? It was common for men of wealth and position to take mistresses. Mr. Bennet might even have gone so far as to say it was expected. Would Elizabeth's spirit be crushed by the disappointment and betrayal?

Would wealth and popularity in the highest circles of society change her? Would the sweet little Lizzy he had raised cease to exist, replaced by the haughty and entitled socialite, Mrs. Darcy, who cared only for shopping and the next ball? His heart would simply break to see his sweet little girl so changed.

And what if Mr. Darcy, as Elizabeth's husband, couldn't see the merit in her lively mind, her intelligence, and her sharp wit? Elizabeth deserved a man who would love and cherish her for who and what she was. Someone who would value those qualities in her that were so rare, yet so often frowned upon as unladylike or indelicate. What would become of her then?

In the end, all Mr. Bennet could conclude was that he would have to humor Elizabeth and find out the answers to all this for himself. He knew his headstrong daughter well enough to fear the potential consequences if he refused to even consider Mr. Darcy as a husband for her. At the very least, she would never allow him to hear the end of it, and their easy camaraderie would be, at least temporarily, damaged. At worst, she could do something drastic, like run off with the man.

Elizabeth was intelligent and strong of mind and purpose, not silly and vain like his younger daughters, but she also had an iron will when she knew what she wanted, as well as a good deal of courage that, if misplaced, could lead her down a wrong path. He wouldn't put something like an elopement past her if he pushed her to it. Perhaps he would once have thought too much of her good judgment to believe such a thing of her, but then she had brought Darcy home, and his opinion of her discernment had been soundly shaken. Yes, he would have to speak with this Mr. Darcy, and soon. Breakfast would be as good a time to begin as any. With the presence of his wife and young daughters, it might even provide some amusement for him. Perhaps the necessary time away from his books wouldn't be completely wasted after all.

Mr. Bennet had to spare a small smile for the happy glow he beheld on Elizabeth's beloved face as her gaze turned from her new beau to focus on him. Then his eyes fell of their clasped hands, and his smile became a disapproving frown. Mr. Bennet thought he would have liked to chastise Mr. Darcy for standing closer to his daughter than was strictly acceptable, but found it difficult to know how to go about scolding a man nearly his own age. Yet another reason for him to feel uncomfortable about Elizabeth and Darcy's relationship.

"Mr. Darcy, I presume," Mr. Bennet spoke as he stepped out into the hall.

"Mr. Bennet," Darcy responded with a practiced bow, "what a pleasure to make your acquaintance...at last."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide at Darcy's boldness, unsure how her father would take to being challenged by her prospective suitor. To her surprise, and relief, her father only chuckled amusedly and invited Darcy to join him in the book room.

"Lizzy, perhaps you could take care of informing your mother and Mrs. Hill that we will have an extra mouth at the breakfast table this morning," Mr. Bennet addressed his daughter as he turned to close the door behind them.

"Yes, Papa," Elizabeth answered automatically, though she made no immediate move to quit that spot. Her eyes were focused past her father's shoulder on the man who she hoped to, very soon, call her husband. He smiled encouragingly and winked flirtatiously just as the door closed, separating them for the time being.

Elizabeth did as her father had asked and told her mother and the housekeeper that Mr. Darcy would be staying for breakfast, which, of course, brought on a fit of nerves, cheek pinching, and bodice tugging. Kitty and Lydia, eyes still a bit heavy from their recently-ended slumber, commenced teasing Elizabeth about her visitor. More accurately, Lydia teased, and Kitty tittered nasally in agreement with her sister's saucy remarks.

"The truly excellent thing about marrying a much older man, Lizzy, is that you get to be a young, rich widow one day. Then you shall have your pick of all the young, handsome gentleman, even the poor ones. How very clever of you to think of it!"

"Lydia!" Elizabeth scolded, astonished at her sister's convoluted reasoning. Additionally, Lydia's comments about Elizabeth being a "young, rich widow" struck a cord that would have been better left untouched.

It made Elizabeth terribly sad to think that she wouldn't get to grow old with her George by her side. She would still be relatively young when he was nearing the end of his life. It was entirely possible that he wouldn't get to meet any of their grandchildren. The thought filled her with such desperate sadness that she was forced to excuse herself for a bracing walk in the fresh air of the garden before facing the entire family, plus Darcy, at the breakfast table.

As she strolled amongst the untrimmed hedges of yellow roses, Elizabeth consoled herself by imagining all that they _would_ share together in the coming years. Soon they would be man and wife, and all Darcy's lonely years of widowerhood would be over. They hadn't yet spoken of a wedding trip, but she thought that, perhaps, that might come next. Traveling anywhere with Darcy, just the two of them, would be delightful. Perhaps he would take her to the sea shore or perhaps to the Lake District. With the turmoil on the continent, it was too much to hope for a trip across the channel, but perhaps that would happen some day for them. In the mean time, they would start a family. She imagined several little dark-haired boys and girls of various ages, some with Darcy's chocolate eyes and some with her hazel ones. The image put a serene smile on her face. Her melancholy was, for the moment, banished, and she returned to the house.

Breakfast was a noisy affair, as meals at Longbourn were want to be. To Elizabeth, this particular meal seemed exceptionally so, as she couldn't help glancing constantly in Darcy's direction to gauge his reaction to the ridiculous behavior of her family members. Darcy had been seated to her father's left hand side, as far away from her own position at the opposite corner of the table as he could possibly had been. Apparently, their private talk had not done much in the way of improving her father's civility towards her admirer, for Mr. Bennet kept his newspaper almost constantly up as a barrier to any interaction between himself and Darcy. Elizabeth nearly fumed with anger and indignation at the sight, but found herself powerless to rectify the situation.

Her mother and sisters, though now the least of her worries, certainly didn't make the situation any better. Mrs. Bennet was seated directly across the table from Darcy, and she was attempting, loudly and clumsily, to rectify her husband's oversight by speaking constantly to the visiting gentleman. Though she was so far down the table that she shouldn't have been able to hear the conversation taking place at their end, Elizabeth could hear every ridiculous word spoken by her mother, and her embarrassment increased with each syllable. It was a wonder Darcy was able to eat anything at all.

Mary was seated to Darcy's left. This was the only fortunate aspect of the seating arrangements, as Mary said not a word to him or to anybody throughout the meal. Kitty was seated to Elizabeth's right, Mary's left, with Lydia across from her. The two communicated both silently and verbally throughout the meal, giggling constantly, and even going so far as to throw bits of toast and grapes at each other over the table.

Elizabeth knew that none of this lack of decorum or even basic good manners could possibly be lost on Darcy. He saw and heard all, and her heart ached at the knowledge that she and her family were so far beneath his notice that she had no right to any claim on him at all. If he chose her to be his bride, it would certainly be a great condescension on his part. She loved him so desperately that the thought that she had so little to offer him, nothing but herself and her own dubious merits, made even her practiced polite smile fade. He did love her. She trusted him enough to know that he would never tell her a falsehood, especially about something so important as his deepest feelings. She also trusted that Darcy wanted much more from a wife than a dowry and connections. If that were all he cared about he would have married much sooner. The _ton _was populated with fine young ladies who would have fit the bill nicely, yet he was there, in her home in the wilds of Hertforshire, paying court to her. And _this _was how her family thanked him for his condescension. Sadness turned quickly to frustration at the though, and Elizabeth, seeing no other alternative at the present moment, turned her indignation to the eggs on her plate and began to devour them with renewed vigor. Soon enough, her plate was clean and she excused herself for another walk in the garden.

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><p><strong>AN2: **Not a whole lot happened in this chapter, I know, but next time will be big, so be ready for it. I already the next chapter half written, so the wait won't be as long. Thanks for reading!

By the way, how do you like the new "cover" image? Pretty yummy right? ;)


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Thanks for waiting so patiently, everyone. Time for chapter 21!

Elizabeth awoke early the morning after the official first day of their courtship, her mind predictably full of Darcy. She expected him again for breakfast that morning, but desperately wished the weather were dry enough for her walk towards Netherfield in hopes of meeting him in transit. As it was, she was forced to remain indoors for the duration of the early morning hours, whiling away the time with a book in her favorite window seat until she could expect Darcy's call.

A commotion in the hall below alerted Elizabeth to the arrival of a visitor. Eager to see Darcy again, though his arrival was a bit earlier than was strictly proper, she hopped up from her seat and made her way briskly down the stairs towards the front door. Instead of Darcy, she was surprised to see her elder sister's flushed and drawn face in the entryway.

"Jane," she greeted the arrival as she skipped quickly to her side. The sisters clasped their hands between them, as they often did upon each reunion. "I didn't expect to see you. Is anything the matter, dearest?"

"Is Mama up yet? And Kitty and Lydia?"

Elizabeth was a bit confused by her sister's answering her question with another question. She wasn't at all sure what to make of it, but answered that, indeed, their mother and youngest sisters were not yet up, or, at least, had not yet left their rooms.

"Good," Jane began, gripping Elizabeth's fingers anxiously.

"Jane, what is it? You really must tell me, dear sister, or I shall assume the worst. Is it Charles? The baby?"

"No. No, nothing like that. Oh, Lizzy...can we, perhaps, go into the parlor?"

"Of course."

Elizabeth led the way to the parlor, where they ordered tea for two from Mrs. Hill. Jane twisted her hands in her lap nervously as they awaited the arrival of the tea, and the subsequent departure of the servant, to begin discourse. The wait seemed interminable to Elizabeth, who was becoming more alarmed by the moment, but, at last, the door clicked shut behind Mrs. Hill, and the two sisters were left alone.

"Now, Jane, what is it? What has you so uncharacteristically anxious this morning?"

"Oh, Lizzy...I hardly know how to tell you this. I suppose it would be best just to come right out with it."

Jane looked pointedly into her sister's wide eyes, assessing Elizabeth's ability to withstand the blow that she was about to deliver.

"Yes, Jane. Go on," Elizabeth prompted gently. Aware of her sister's scrutiny, she endeavored to project an air of calm and composure, though she scarcely felt either calm or completely composed.

"Lizzy, when Charles and I awoke this morning...Mr. Darcy was gone."

* * *

><p>Claiming a headache, Elizabeth sequestered herself in her room for hours after Jane had returned to Netherfield, able to face neither her father's smug satisfaction, her mother's noisy lamentations, nor her youngest sisters' giggles and jibes. She lay curled up in the middle of her bed with a pillow clutched to her chest going over and over the previous day's events in her mind, trying to sort out any possible reason for Darcy's sudden departure.<p>

Jane had informed her that he had left just after daybreak, taking all his belongings and his valet with him, leaving no note and no word of explanation. He didn't even say goodbye to his hosts. It simply wasn't like Darcy at all.

Elizabeth's feelings vacillated frequently between grief, worry, confusion, and anger. She felt terribly sad to be separated from Darcy for, God only knew, how long. She was worried that something dreadful might have befallen him. After all, it wasn't at all like him to do something so rude as to leave a house in which he is a guest without saying goodbye or leaving an explanatory note behind. She was sure he would never have left so precipitously without leaving word of some kind, unless...

This was where the confusion started. What on earth could prompt him to leave so suddenly? She knew her family had been embarrassing and crude, but she hadn't noted any particularly unforgivable occurrence. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she replayed the previous day's events in her mind, racking her tired brain for some reason - any reason - for Darcy's disappearance.

* * *

><p><em>The previous day...<em>

After breakfast, Darcy found Elizabeth wandering along the overgrown hedges at the far end of Longbourn's garden, so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed his approach until he startled her with a light kiss on her cheek.

"Woolgathering, Elizabeth?" he asked cheekily, having noted her contemplative expression instantly.

He leaned forward and kissed the little crease in her brow that signaled her concern, hoping to alleviate her worries. Darcy hadn't been insensible to the embarrassing behavior of her family, and he could clearly see that it troubled her. He had to admit some consternation as to how Elizabeth and her elder sister had turned out so well, having been brought up amongst such chaos and total lack of discipline. It was truly a wonder, one that he would be forever grateful for. As much as he would like to think ill of Mrs. Bennet (for being so silly and dim-witted) and of Mr. Bennet (for being rude and uncivil), he realized that he owed them a great debt for, somehow, contributing to the perfect partner he had found in Elizabeth. Therefore, he resolved to treat them with civility and respect as Elizabeth's family, his future in-laws.

This wasn't accomplished without some difficulty, and he said so candidly and honestly to Elizabeth, causing her no small amount of dismay. Though Darcy was quick to apologize for his slip, the words had already been said, the damage to Elizabeth's composure already inflicted.

It shouldn't surprise her that Darcy thought poorly of her family, though he tried his best to treat them as he ought simply because of their relation to the woman he intended to marry. Yet, she was somewhat put out with him for daring to say so aloud, and couldn't forgive him immediately.

"Mr. Darcy, I _did_ warn you about them, and you brushed my warning off without giving it a moment's consideration. _Now_ you wish to acknowledge my family's defects!" Elizabeth had exclaimed in annoyance, more with the situation in general than with Darcy himself.

"So, I express my honest - and not unjustified - opinion about your relations, and I become Mr. Darcy again?" Darcy had shot back, his poor temper matching, or perhaps stemming from, Elizabeth's.

Receiving no response but a quickening of Elizabeth's pace as she moved further and further away from him into the wilderness of ivy and overgrown rosebushes, Darcy used his longer stride to advantage, catching Elizabeth easily and halting her progress by placing his hands around her waist. Even at such a tense moment, she unconsciously tempted him.

"You're a stubborn woman, Elizabeth Bennet," he whispered thickly in her ear as he pulled her closer the harder she tried to extricate herself from his grasp.

The day had ended almost as inauspiciously as it began. Jane had invited Elizabeth to dine at Netherfield, but poor weather had prevented her attendance at the last minute. Discouraged, Elizabeth had taken herself up to her bedroom early that evening, missing Darcy and feeling terribly sorry that she wouldn't have the opportunity to apologize for her earlier treatment of him. She was afraid she had been somewhat less than kind when he had expressed what was, she had to admit, a completely justified opinion. In truth, the beliefs he had given voice to were her own as well. He had felt secure enough in her trust to confide honestly in her, and how had she thanked him? By seeking to wound him with harsh words and rejecting his tender expressions of affection.

Elizabeth had lain awake well into the night, feeling, not for the first time, that she truly didn't deserve him.

* * *

><p>While Elizabeth believed she had great cause to reproach herself for her unreasonable behavior of the previous day, she refused to think so little of Darcy's steadfastness as to believe that he would tuck tail and run simply because she had been in a tiff and shrugged off his embrace. She also wished to believe enough in his honor as a gentleman that he wouldn't leave her after witnessing the coarseness of her family's behavior. But what other possible explanation was there?<p>

Seeking, as she often did, consolation in the comfort of Mother Nature's embrace, she donned her spencer and bonnet and took herself out of doors. Though the day was overcast and she ran the risk of being caught in a sudden downpour, Elizabeth's sanity could no longer bear being confined to the four walls of her chambers, and she certainly couldn't countenance spending such a trying time in the company of any of her family.

Knowing it would be unwise to risk going as far as Oakham Mount, Elizabeth forced her feet to take her in the opposite direction of her favorite haunt, deciding instead to take refuge in a little secluded grove sheltered by several fine cherry trees that put out spectacular white blooms in the spring. As it was late summer, they merely exhibited a fine collection of verdant leaves.

Upon reaching her destination, Elizabeth seated herself upon the damp earth, her back supported on one straight trunk. She expected a scolding from her mother upon returning to the house regarding the dampness on the back of her gown, but she refused to care about that just yet. She had a great deal of thinking, and feeling, to do, and her efforts would not be aided by cares about what her mother may or may not take umbrage with. Darcy had been gone all day without sending any word regarding his whereabouts, and she still wasn't completely sure how she felt about the development.

The shock was still fresh, so she knew it may be many days yet before her true feelings began to surface. She still couldn't be certain if, when the numbness wore off, it would leave anger, sadness, or worry in its wake, though she was inclined to believe it would be some combination of all three. Her thoughts and feelings were still in such a muddle, it could very well be ages until she felt like herself again. Though not of a disposition typically inclined towards melancholy, the loss of her beloved would be far too great a blow to bear with any sort of composure. She wasn't entirely sure how she would go on if it were to be discovered that he had simply changed his mind and abandoned her.

Elizabeth's mind and heart immediately rebelled against such a thought. Had he not professed his love for her, and given her many heartfelt assurances of his devotion, not eight and forty hours past? Had he not travelled all the way to Hertfordshire in order to further their connection? The man she thought she knew would never have left her without, at the very least, an goodbye.

"_No, that isn't even true," _she thought. "_The George Darcy I know and love would never have left me, at all." _

Thus resolved, Elizabeth's spirits briefly rose on the wings of hope, only to fall again as worry assailed her aching heart. Something terrible must have occurred to take him away from her. And if he didn't even have time to leave a note...

With a frustrated groan, Elizabeth accepted that she had no option but to await the arrival of the next morning and hope that Darcy would soon send word of his whereabouts. Otherwise...

No, she couldn't think about any "otherwise." All she could do was trust in Darcy's honor as a gentleman and his professions of love for her, and hope.

* * *

><p><em>Early that morning, at Netherfield...<em>

Caroline Bingley had risen with the dawn, having been informed by her maid that it was their honored guest's habit to do so. She had also learned, through the same source, that Mr. Darcy took his coffee black, that he was very fond of lemon biscuits, and that he had enjoyed both in the east parlor before going out for a ride the previous morning.

Having preceded the object of her interest to the parlor she hoped he would visit again, Caroline instructed a footman to fetch a pot of coffee and a plate of lemon biscuits for the sideboard before seating herself in what she thought was an enticing and demure position with her ankles crossed, and ever so slightly exposed, in front of her. She pinched her cheeks and adjusted the neckline of her gown as she bit her lips repeatedly to redden and plump them.

Her heart gave an excited lurch when she heard rapid footfalls headed her way from the direction of the stairs.

She put on her most enticing smile when the Darcy entered the parlor, but that smile quickly faded into a look of exaggerated concern when she noted his worry-creased brow and severe frown. Immediately, she rose and made her way to his side.

"Mr. Darcy, whatever is the matter?" she simpered.

"Miss Bingley, I was informed that you are the only member of the family currently awake," Darcy answered, his voice tense and rough. "Therefore, I sought you out for the purpose of conveying to your brother and sister, through you, my deepest apologies and my most heartfelt thanks for their hospitality, but I must away at once. Something...has occurred which requires my immediate attention."

Reaching out his gloved hand, he handed her two sealed letters.

"If you would be so kind, please have these letters delivered to Longbourn as soon as may be. I must be off."

Glancing down at the envelopes in her hand, Caroline noted that one was addressed to Mr. Bennet, and one, she was alarmed to see, to Elizabeth Bennet.

Forcing herself to smile through the searing jealousy rising up inside her, Caroline's eyes returned to the handsome face of the very desirable and wealthy man before her.

"Of course. You can count on me, Mr. Darcy."

"Thank you, Miss Bingley. My carriage is just pulling 'round. I must bid you goodbye."

She curtseyed as he bowed, dipping a bit lower than strictly necessary in hopes of allowing him an enticing view down the front of her dress.

"Safe travels, Mr. Darcy," she spoke softly. "I do hope we shall see you again soon. You're welcome to return to Netherfield as soon as your business is concluded, I'm sure."

Caroline's smile faded as soon as Darcy's back was turned. She watched through narrowed eyes as his tall figure disappeared out of the parlor door, leaving her to fume in solitude.

Looking, once again, at the letters she held in her hands, she wondered what it was that such a wealthy, handsome, well-respected gentleman saw in that hoyden, Elizabeth Bennet. Surely she had used some questionable arts and allurements to draw him in. Surely, he must be deceived about the truth of her ill-qualification to be Mrs. Darcy, mistress of the reputedly-magnificent Pemberly.

Elizabeth Bennet had been the bane of Caroline Bingley's existence since her dimwit of a brother had been duped into an unfortunate union with said upstart's pretty and conniving sister. If asked, Caroline wouldn't have been able to provide much of an answer as to why that was, but she didn't seem to need a tangible reason. There was no love lost between herself and Elizabeth, and that was that.

Caroline's smile returned in full force as she sauntered over to the fireplace dropped both envelopes into the blaze. She watched over their smoldering shapes until the crisp, white stationary had turned to ash.

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><p><strong>AN2: **Next time, we catch up with Darcy and discover the reason for his sudden departure.

Thanks for reading!


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: **First of all, guys, let me apologize again and again for the wait! I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it won't happen again. But I am ever so sorry.

Just a quick recap, the last chapter ended with the revelation that Caroline burned Darcy's letters to Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet explaining his sudden departure. Now we catch up with Darcy and learn a bit about what called him so suddenly away from his lady-love. Enjoy!

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><p>Darcy sank into the steaming tub with a grateful sigh. Long hours in the saddle had taken quite a toll on his lower back, in addition to the over-all tension brought on by the troubling situation in which he found himself.<p>

"_Where did I go so terribly wrong with that boy?" _he thought forlornly as he slipped down beneath the surface of the soothing water. _"The closest thing to a son I've been granted..." _

A hopeful smile tugged at his lips as a happy thought broke through the gathering clouds. Now that Elizabeth was part of his future, a son of his own might be as well. He might finally be so blest as to become a father. Even if, like her mother, Elizabeth birthed only daughters, he would be perfectly content in his good fortune. With such happy prospects to look forward to, how could he truly lament _anything_? At the age of two and fifty, he suddenly found that his whole life was ahead of him.

As he lathered and rinsed the day's grime from his aching body, he wondered what Elizabeth was thinking at that moment. What had she made of his cryptic note? He hadn't wanted to disclose the entirety of the sordid affair to her before its outcome was decided. The note he had written to her father had contained a bit more information, but he had asked Mr. Bennet not to share it with Elizabeth, but to allow him to explain the situation himself upon his return. He had been able to offer absolutely no indication of how long he would be away because he didn't even know himself. With any luck, the entire messy business would be sorted out within a few days and he could be on his way back to Hertfordshire, and to Elizabeth.

Darcy had ridden so far, and in such haste, that his valet and the carriage had yet to catch up with him. He had stopped in at his London townhouse and switched to his best horse, riding on until darkness fell and he could go no further until dawn. Phillips had promised to follow soon after with more practical clothing, and to offer his assistance however he could.

After wrapping a towel around his waist, Darcy rang for assistance. He handed his filthy clothing to the attending maid through as small an opening in the door as he could manage. The pretty young girl blushed as red as her hair and promised to have his things laundered by first light. He also requested coffee and a light breakfast be brought up at the same time, and arranged for his horse to be saddled and ready to depart at dawn.

The towel dropped unheeded to the floor, as Darcy slid between the crisp bed linens, groaning as the softness of the bed enveloped him.

He wondered, if Elizabeth were there, would she rub his aching back and shoulders? Would she listen patiently as he bared all his fears and anxieties to her, all his cares and all his disappointments?

His heart ached for the charismatic young boy he had once loved as a son. That boy was scarcely recognizable in the man - the villain - he had become.

George Wickham had reached a new low. Darcy had charged his solicitor with keeping tabs on his godson's activities since he started to suspect some mishandling of his allowance some years past. Debts of honor, unpaid bills. The drinking, the gambling, and the whoring. He had heard it all. Mr. Fielding had been good enough to send an express rider before daylight had fully dawned that morning with news of his godson's most recent display of depravity, knowing that something would need to be done immediately. Darcy was heartily ashamed, and dreadfully saddened. He had tried to teach his namesake what it meant to be a gentleman of honor. Oh, how desperately he had failed! And now an unfortunate young woman would pay the price for his failure.

The best possible outcome of the situation would be a hasty, patched-up marriage that would only lead to misery for both parties. And the worst...Unfortunately, the worst would be suffered only by the foolish girl who had allowed herself to be taken in by his cad of a godson. That was unthinkable. At first light, he would scour the entire route to Scotland for that renegade and force him, for once in his life, to do the honorable thing.

Darcy suspected Wickham had lured the young lady away from her guardians with promises of a romantic elopement, a thrilling adventure, all ending at Gretna Green. He had ridden as far along the north road as he could, knowing they had enough of a lead on him that he probably wouldn't overtake them until they reached their destination. It was probably too much to hope that the lady's virtue hadn't already been compromised. A marriage would, in any case, be a necessity. The lady was socially ruined, regardless. But, knowing his godson the way that he did, such a marriage would almost certainly not take place, not unless he intervened. His sources spoke of the girl as having only tolerable connections and a mere two-thousand pounds to her name. It could hardly be worth Wickham's trouble to tie himself to a lady for a mere two-thousand. He would burn through that much in a month.

This thought led to new questions. Why would George even bother taking the girl north if he had no intention of actually marrying her? Darcy was fairly confident in his conviction that George intended to do no such thing. In that case...

London. They were most likely in London.

With a frustrated groan, Darcy accepted that he had ridden for over half the day on a wild goose chase. Wickham was probably back in London, hiding himself and his paramour away amidst the scum and the rabble of the disreputable society he had recently become entangled with. In his haste to be doing something to rectify the situation, Darcy had overlooked a very crucial detail, and he knew only too well that the consequences of his thoughtlessness could be dire. At the very least, he had delayed his return to Elizabeth's arms by an entire day, if not more. The thought was unbearable, as, even then, he yearned for her tender touch.

He pounded his fists against the mattress in frustration, cursing his stupidity and shortsightedness under his breath, and wondering how he was going to endure the interminable hours until the morning dawned and he could correct his error. He remembered his father, years and years ago when he was a young man, berating him for acting impulsively, jumping to conclusion without thinking things through. When he had a son of his own, he promised himself, he would be sure to caution strongly against such folly.

There was nothing for it but to try to get some rest and be ready to begin again in the morning.

* * *

><p>"Gone! What do you mean he's gone?"<p>

Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification as her mother's shrill tones echoed off the drawing room walls, convinced that the news of Mr. Darcy's absence had been heard all the way to Meryton. Fighting to remain calm, she drew in a deep breath and patiently repeated the story a second time.

"You mean he's abandoned you!" Mrs. Bennet continued as she wrung her hands and paced the room in agitation. "Oh, my poor nerves! Miss Lizzy, I always told you your impertinence would cost you, and, see, so it has!"

"There's no need to keep going over this, Mama," Elizabeth shot back, rapidly approaching the end of her forbearance. "I only meant to inform you that you no longer need to plan on Mr. Darcy's presence at dinner. I have, in no way, resigned myself to his loss. I believe him more honorable than that."

With that, Elizabeth turned and strode from the room, then from the house. She could hear her mother's tirade about her nerves and ungrateful daughters continuing in her wake, but she forced herself not to pay it any heed. Ignoring her mother had become somewhat of a practiced art over the past twenty years, so it wasn't terribly difficult to do.

Dinner that night was an awkward affair. Her mother refused to cease her lamentations over the loss of a perfectly good suitor. Elizabeth, was, of course, solely to blame for their misfortune. Poor Mr. Bingley and Jane would have to bear the burden of all their care when Mr. Bennet passed, and it was entirely her fault. Elizabeth needed to learn to behave as a true lady, like her elder sister, if she had any hope of escaping a spinsters cap, and so on.

Her father was also a source of vexation, as he sat idly eating his dinner while her mother rambled on, not making any effort whatsoever to put a stop to her hurtful tirade. As soon as he had consumed his last bite, Mr. Bennet rose and left the dining room, presumably for the quiet solitude of his book room. Elizabeth had never felt so completely alone at a crowded and noise dinner table in her life, so so left it not long after her father did.

Sleep was an elusive comfort that night. Thoughts of Darcy plagued her constantly. Though she still refused to believe that he had abandoned her willingly, the worry that something terrible had befallen the man she loved with all her soul refused to allow her to rest. When she did sleep, her dreams were hectic and troubled. She felt no more rested upon awakening at daybreak than she had when she first lay down for the night.

Elizabeth briefly contemplated trying to sleep until breakfast, but soon set the idea aside. She knew she would only lay restlessly staring out the window as the sun crept over the horizon. So, she rose and quietly dressed herself in a simple morning dress with her sturdiest boots before quietly leaving her room, intent on taking her usual morning ramble to Oakham Mount.

She was surprised when, upon passing her father's book room door, his voice called to her from the other side.

"Elizabeth, is that you?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"Yes, Papa."

"Come in, please," he continued. "I wish to have a word with you."

Elizabeth felt in no way equal to a discussion with her father. She was tired, and therefore irritable and not at her best. Perhaps if she were able to put him off until she had taken her morning exercise, she would be better equipped to face him...

No, there was no time like the present. If she put him off until her return, there was a chance that her mother and sisters would awaken, postponing the inevitable confrontation until the next morning. Better to simply have it over with.

Drawing in and releasing a deep, cleansing breath, Elizabeth entered the musty-smelling room and closed the door behind her.

"Take a seat, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet instructed, gesturing to a vacant chair opposite where he was ensconced behind his desk.

Elizabeth did as she was asked. After all, her father had taken the trouble to move the mountain of books previously stacked in the chair on which she currently sat to a tall pile on the floor beside her; whatever he had to say must be of unusual import her her stoic father.

"Lizzy, I'm going to be frank with you, and I need you, in return, to be frank with me," Mr. Bennet began. There was a moment's pause as he removed his spectacles to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to ward off the headache that was rapidly building behind his eyes.

"I need to know what exactly has occurred between yourself and Mr. Darcy," he continued. "Have you been...have you allowed yourself to be...taken advantage of? Have you given him your virtue?"

Elizabeth sat for several minutes in shocked silence. She had expected...well, perhaps she wasn't sure precisely what it was she had expected upon entering the room, but it certainly wasn't to have her virtue called into question.

"Sir, I...I can assure you that nothing...irreparable has occurred between Mr. Darcy and myself."

Daring a glance up at her father's face, she could see that he remained skeptical. It seemed a more direct answer was needed. Her face burned with embarrassment as she braced herself and continued on.

"My virtue is yet in tact, sir. You have my word."

Upon receiving his favorite daughter's assurances, Mr. Bennet released an audible sigh of relief. He felt that he knew his Lizzy well enough that he trusted her not to be dishonest with him when asked a direct question. He had lain awake for most of the previous night worrying that he had allowed a cad into close enough contact with his most beloved daughter for the scoundrel to convince her, with pretty words and empty promises, to part with her innocence, only to leave her in tenuous circumstances when he had taken his fill. As much as he would have preferred to think the worst of Darcy, he was happy for his Lizzy's sake that he had been wrong, at least in this respect, about her wayward suitor.

"That will be all, Lizzy." He released her from his presence with a tired wave of his hand. "You may go now. I know you're probably anxious to be on your way."

Elizabeth silently rose and made her way to the door.

"My dear, can may I impose upon you to pour an old man a brandy before you depart?" her father's voice detained her again.

"Of course, Papa," she answered quietly, finding the strength inside her battered heart to spare a small smile for her father who, perhaps for the first time, had broached a difficult subject in an effort to do his duty by one of his daughters. Though she had been mortified by the exchange, she was glad, on some level, that he had made the effort.


	24. Chapter 23  Part 1

_**A/N: I know this is a very short post, but I didn't want you feel that I had forgotten this story. I'm still working on it, a little at a time. :)**  
><em>

_Chapter 23, Part 1_

For days on end, Elizabeth forced herself to get out of bed each morning with a positive attitude, expecting, at any moment, to receive news of Darcy. Perhaps he would send a letter explaining his whereabouts, if he couldn't immediately return. She knew she had to keep her spirits up, to remain optimistic. There was no other choice. If she allowed doubts and worries to invade her thoughts, she wasn't sure how she would go on.

Despite her best efforts, each passing day weakened her resolve. The open censure of her mother and the quiet, knowing stares of her father ate away at her composure, forcing her to escape the house with greater frequency than even she was want to do.

There was some peace to be found in nature, no matter the turmoil of her thoughts. Natural beauty was a constant: when everything around her was changing, or falling apart, there would always be rolling hills and lush, green trees. It was a simple pleasure that didn't cost anything, and could never be taken away from her. She felt more secure out of doors than she did in her own home.

When nearly a fortnight had passed without any word of Darcy, even the comfort afforded by a good long walk began to diminish. She wasn't sure what to think, and all she could feel was the terrible pain of longing for him. She missed him desperately. Not knowing where he was or if he was well was beginning to take a toll on her usually indomitable spirits.

On the day that marked exactly two weeks since Darcy's mysterious disappearance, Elizabeth finally allowed her fears to dominate her for a few hours. They would be held at bay no longer. She found a secluded spot in the most unkempt portion of the garden where she knew she would not be disturbed, and, at last, allowed herself to weep.

* * *

><p>Darcy groaned in exhaustion as he drooped into his favorite armchair beside the fire in his welcoming bedchamber. At last, it was over. He had found his wayward godson, and set the horrid situation to rights. Wickham was now a married man, shackled to a young, foolish girl without an intelligent thought in her head or a sensible word on her tongue. She was but seventeen, the daughter of a decently well-off solicitor from Brighton.<p>

Upon questioning Wickham, the girl (now Mrs. Wickham), and Mrs. Young, Darcy had been able to piece together what had actually occurred to lead them all to such an undesirable place.

Wickham's original plan had been to worm is way into the heart of the sheltered, and wealthy, young lady Mrs. Young was employed as companion to, eventually convincing her to elope with him, thus giving him control of the lady's sizable fortune. But he had been foiled in this attempt, and had found it suddenly necessary that he flee Brighton or face pistols at dawn with the lady's father. Having lost all he had on him at the gaming tables, he had convinced the solicitor's daughter, a favorite of his for several weeks, to go with him instead. They had used what pin money she had to buy transportation to London where, Wickham had told her, he would use what was left to gamble until he had earned enough to get them to Scotland so they could be married. What Wickham hadn't planned on was his godfather discovering his underhanded dealings and forcing him to make good on his promise to the girl. A reminder of the not-unsubstantial sum of money Wickham owed Darcy for paying off his numerous debts of honor was all it took to get the young scoundrel to the altar. Not wishing to leave the unfortunate, if foolish, young lady at the mercy of Wickham's questionable ability to provide for a family, Darcy had purchased Wickham a commission in the regulars, ensuring a small, steady income that would keep them fed and housed, while ensuring that he continued to work or risk hanging. An additional benefit of the arrangement, from Darcy's perspective, was that Wickham's post was to be in Newcastle, almost as far north as one could go in England, and far, far away from Darcy and his future bride.

Another sigh escaped Darcy's lips as he thought about Elizabeth. His body cried out for rest after the long ordeal he had been through, but he couldn't possibly leave her in the dark as to the nature of his absence any longer. Additionally, his heart ached for her presence. How he wished she were already his wife, that her comforting arms had been waiting for him upon the conclusion of his mission. His heart was still pained by the loss of the kind, bright boy he had once loved, and the cold depravity of the man he had said goodbye to at the post station, possibly forever. What a blessed comfort a few of Elizabeth's kisses would be!

Rising slowly on aching legs, Darcy rang for his valet to ready him for bed, giving instructions for the man to order his carriage to be readied just after the breakfast hour the next day. After a good night's rest and a leisurely morning at home, he would be on his way back to Hertfordshire to advance his courtship of Elizabeth as though nothing had ever happened to tear them apart. He briefly considered sending an express ahead of his carriage to alert the Bingleys of his impending return, but decided against it. They would only receive a couple hours' notice, at best, and Miss Bingley had issued him an open invitation to return at any time. If, for whatever reason, they couldn't accommodate him on short notice, he would simply stay at the inn in Meryton.

His course set, Darcy retired for the night with hopeful thoughts of seeing Elizabeth upon the morrow.

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><p><strong><em>Blissful reunion next time! Or will something else occur to detain Darcy? I'd love to know your thoughts! <em>**


	25. Chapter 23 - Part 2

**Here is is! FINALLY! So sorry about the long waits between updates. Hope this makes up for it. :)**

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><p>Elizabeth stayed out of doors much later into the day than was her usual habit on the morning that marked the fifteenth day since Mr. Darcy's disappearance. She paced back and forth on the summit of Oakham Mount, her hands fisting repeatedly in the fabric of her dress, seeking an outlet for the restive energy churning inside her. A part of her wanted to pack a bag and comb the entire country for him, and, not for the first time in her young life, she cursed the limitations placed upon her sex. She wished, with all her heart, that she could, at the very least, be assured of his safety. Even if he had suddenly decided to leave her behind, it would be a tremendous relief to her bruised heart to know that he was back at his beautiful Pemberley, alive and well.<p>

She had tried to prevail upon her father to make inquiries in London, but to no avail. Mr. Bennet was convinced that Darcy had, as predicted, tired of Elizabeth and decided to leave her behind him for good. Elizabeth could find no help and no sympathy at all from him or anyone else at Longbourn. Charles had made a few inquiries himself, but without success, as he wasn't connected with anybody who knew Darcy personally. Her kind brother had tried to assuage her worries by reminding her that Darcy's carriage, his valet, and all his possessions had been taken with him and the house had borne no sighs of any struggle. He was convinced that there was no cause for alarm, only great disappointment.

As she walked, she wiped several escaped tears from her cheeks with the back of her gloved hand, wishing she had thought to bring a handkerchief with her. She had resolved to try to be rational about the situation, rather than to languish in her disappointment and worry, but it seemed her feelings would not be ignored.

She seated herself on the soft grass, her back resting against a fallen tree, and tried to make herself relax. Her upset would do nobody any good. She knew she couldn't live out the rest of her life not knowing what had truly become of the man she loved; she would have to, eventually, formulate a plan and take some kind of action. That would never happen if she couldn't keep her emotions in check.

Though her logical mind told her to remain composed and reasonable, her heart refused to be silenced. It ached and throbbed with pain and loss, and she knew she wouldn't be able to shove it aside completely. Exhausted by the weeks of little sleep and great disturbance of spirit, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the fallen log, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p>Impatient to see his beloved, Darcy rode ahead of his carriage, which carried his valet and luggage, giving instructions for the conveyance to go ahead to Netherfield while he made a short detour into the countryside. It was a bit late in the morning, but it was possible that Elizabeth could still be out walking, and he hoped for a few minutes alone with her before they were forced to contend with the constant presence of chaperones once again. After so long and arduous a separation, the need to indulge in several of her sweet kisses was vital.<p>

Having accompanied her out on several mornings, he knew her favorite haunts well. Soon, he reached the summit of Oakham Mount, and was greeted by an alarming sight.

Elizabeth was slumped against a fallen tree, apparently unconscious.

Lowering himself immediately to the ground, he rushed to her side, kneeling close and cupping her sweet face in his hands.

"Elizabeth," he spoke pleadingly as he rubbed her soft cheeks with this thumbs. "Elizabeth, please wake up. Please be well."

Her eyes fluttered open then, immediately widening in alarm as she started, pulling back from his touch.

"No need to fear, dearest. It's only me," he spoke soothingly, reaching for her hand and encasing it securely in both of his.

Elizabeth blinked several times, not completely sure she was awake. She felt as though she was. Her neck ached from the cramped position in which she had slept and she could feel the light chill on the morning air against her skin. Surely she wouldn't dream those things? But how could Darcy suddenly be there? It made no sense.

"Please, Elizabeth say something. I need to know that you're well."

She started again at the sound of his voice, but soon recovered her senses enough to reach out to him, placing her free hand on his shoulder.

"It's really you," she spoke, her voice still holding traces of doubt. "I'm not dreaming."

Darcy chuckled slightly at this, mistaking her disbelief for an over-abundance of joy at seeing him again after so lengthy and sudden a separation.

"My dearest, will you not kiss me now? I've missed you so."

With a gentle tug on her hand, he tried to pull her into his arms, but Elizabeth resisted.

"Sir, I beg you would release me," she protested, rising to her feet and taking several steps away from him.

"Elizabeth?"

"I cannot understand you, sir," she spoke forcefully. "You think that you can disappear for over a fortnight without a word and expect me to welcome you back with open arms upon your return? I'm afraid it won't be quite that easy."

Darcy was dumbfounded. He had imagined a much different reunion than the one that was taking place. And what could she possibly mean by suggesting he left without word?

"Did you not receive my note?" he asked.

It was Elizabeth's turn to look aghast.

"Note? You left no note, sir."

"I most certainly _did_ leave you a note. One for your father, also. I left them in Miss Bingley's care on the morning of my departure."

Elizabeth again opened her mouth, a rather fierce retort poised on the tip of her tongue, but stopped short at the mention of Miss Bingley's name.

"Miss Bingley, you say? You left notes...explaining your reasons for departing Netherfield...with Miss Bingley? You didn't speak with my brother or sister?"

"There wasn't the time to take a proper leave," he explained. "An urgent matter concerning my godson was brought to my attention, requiring my immediate intervention. I wrote to assure you that I would return and that I would explain everything in due course. I cannot imagine why the notes were never delivered."

"I can," Elizabeth spat. "That nasty Caroline Bingley probably deposited them straight away into the rubbish bin. She's never cared for me, and I certainly wouldn't put it past her. I could clearly see that she was jealous of the attention you paid me."

Darcy was silent for a long moment as the realization of what had truly occurred sank in.

"Oh, darling, I am truly, truly sorry. What you must have suffered these past weeks...Did you think yourself abandoned?"

"I never thought as such," Elizabeth admitted, her voice noticeably softened. "My father and mother have had no such faith, but I was certain you would never abandon me so coldly."

"You were right, my love. I would never turn my back on you. Not ever."

"I know that now," Elizabeth assured him with a smile.

"Then you believe me...about the letters?"

"Of course I do. Your mistake was leaving them in the care of someone not to be trusted, but you couldn't have known she was so spiteful."

"Thank you, dearest," Darcy spoke feelingly. "You are most gracious."

After a moment's pause in which they only stared at each other in wonder and adoration, Elizabeth's cheerful laugh broke the silence.

"Well, George, if you still desire that kiss, I am now inclined to bestow it."

With a relieved chuckle, Darcy ran to her side, scooping her up in his arms and holding her close. Elizabeth laughed, joy and relief making her rather giddy, and wrapped her arms securely around his neck. She closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar masculine scent as she basked in the warmth of his embrace. Tears of relief and joy clouded her vision and trickled down into the fabric of his cravat.

Darcy slowly lowered her back to the ground, pulling each of his riding gloves off and tossing them away before cupping her smiling face in his hands. He dried her happy tears with his thumbs, relishing the long moment of anticipation before lowering his lips to hers.

TBC


End file.
